VERY Special Agent Tony DiNozzo: Friends & Foes
by rekkidbraka
Summary: A series of oneshots featuring Tony DiNozzo, all of his NCIS friends and sometimes even his foes. UPDATED: Ch. 44: "Inch By Inch." Ziva exacts revenge on E.J. No slash. TIVA. ZIVA/TONY/E.J. SUSPENSE / ANGST.
1. Dot The I

Title: Dot The I

Author: rekkidbraka

Rating: M

Pairings: Tony D. and Tim M.

Category: Friendship; Humor

Disclaimer: No infringement intended.

Spoilers: None

Summary: Tony invites McGee over to watch - what else? - Ohio State football.

**-------------------- Dot The I ---------------------**

"Ahhhhh... Ha ha HAH! Almost kickoff time, Probie!" Tony DiNozzo said, beaming with glee as he reclined on his couch before his brand new big-screen TV. "Tailgating... Game Day on campus... College girls in tight team t-shirts... Rush Week... Keggers... College girls in tight team t-shirts... The thrill of toe meeting leather on a crisp autumn Saturday afternoon... Did I mention the college girls in tight team t-shirts?"

"Three times," Tim McGee answered drily from a nearby chair, shifting his weight. He'd complained to Tony earlier that the chair was uncomfortable and tried to take a seat on the sofa but Tony told him that the couch was off-limits to him during the game.

"Men don't couch it together on Game Day, Probie," Tony had snapped while putting out a spread of snacks. "Goes against everything that's holy and righteous about college football. This is religion. Show some respect, McHeretic."

"So... Navy at Ohio State," Tim mused unenthusiastically. He looked around Tony's apartment, which was decked out with a slew of Ohio State paraphernalia -- flags, banners, posters of famous past Ohio State players, a huge blow-up Brutus mascot standing in the corner giving a thumbs-up, strings of red and gray icicle lights festooned about the living room ceiling area -- and shuddered. "Should be a good game, huh?"

Tony looked over at Tim from the couch, staring as if McGee had just grown an extra head.

"A good game? A good _GAME_, McGee?" Tony's eyes widened. He knitted his brow, fury turning his face a strange mix of scarlet and purple as he sprang up from the couch. "A 'good game' is when you beat someone at air hockey. A 'good game' is what you say to the other team you cream at tee-ball. A 'good GAME,' _Probie_, is a round of GOLF with the BOSS when you let HIM WIN! OHIO STATE HAS NEVER PLAYED ANYTHING RESEMBLING A 'GOOD GAME' IN ITS HISTORY, YOU MASTER OF THE McUNDERSTATEMENT! EVERY TIME THE BUCKEYES HIT THE FIELD, YOU'RE WATCHING A MONUMENTAL CONTEST OF EPIC PROPORTIONS!"

Tim started to respond but found himself speechless. He quickly turned his full attention to the TV. Tony, who was now once again lying back on the sofa, also glanced at the screen.

"Game's about to start, Probie," Tony said, calmly and casually, as if nothing had happened. "Wanna brewski?" Reaching into a huge red cooler next to the couch, he pulled out two bottles from the ice and flashed Tim a huge, toothy grin.

"Tony, it's noon," Tim said, a little taken aback at the idea of beer for brunch.

"Yeah," Tony answered, uncapping one of the bottles and taking a huge swig, "Gettin' a late start and it's only the season opener. It's OK. I'll get my timing down by the second game." He tossed the second bottle over to Tim, who bobbled it for a minute before getting a handle on it and studying the label.

"Buckeye Brew?" Tim asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Born 'n' bred in Columbus, O-hi-O, my little McBuddy. Game day essential. Have a case overnighted in whenever the Buckeyes are playin' on TV." Tony took another long pull from his bottle of beer.

"Wow, you're a really dedicated..." Tim began, but was interrupted by Tony, who upon seeing the ball leave the Ohio State kicker's foot, leapt from the couch and screamed "KICKOFF!" Tim screwed off the cap on his bottle, sniffed it, scrunched up his nose at the smell of Buckeye Beer, and took a tentative test sip. He coughed, gagging at the taste.

"Alright, Probie, your NAVY boys have first possession -- for NOW!" Tony smirked, finishing his beer. "I'm thinking three and out, McMidshipman. Ha HAH!"

"I'm not really a Navy fan, Tony," Tim said, taking another sip of his beer. "I went to MIT."

"Oh, right," Tony muttered, cracking open a second Buckeye Brew. "Guess the only football you eggheads played involved the use of joysticks."

"No," Tim replied defensively, "MIT has a football team -- the Engineers."

"Ha ha HAAAAH! Don't make me LAUGH, Probie!" Tony sneered, reaching for some snacks on the coffee table with his non-beer hand. "THAT's not FOOTBALL! It's glorified NERF! What you see on this 52-inch big screen TV before you, McPoser -- THAT is FOOTBALL! THAT is OHIO STATE, where we eat, sleep, breathe, walk, talk, drink and bear our firstborn in the name of COLLEGE FOOTBALL!"

Now Tim was getting angry.

"Y'know, the MIT games were a lot of fun. And I had a good time going to them when I was in college. So just because it isn't OHIO STATE on the field doesn't mean it isn't football. Same rules. Same guys playing same positions on the same type of field with the same type uniforms, helmets, pads and shoes. And with the same ball. _Football_, Tony? Ohio State and MIT? Play the SAME game!"

Tony stood up from the couch, furious. He pointed an index finger at Tim, his hand trembling with rage.

"YOU... watch... your... porky... MOUTH... you... you...," Tony snarled, searching for the perfect putdown nickname, "You ... _PROBIE!_" He yanked down his red OHIO STATE t-shirt, straightening it, lifted his chin haughtily and sat back down on the couch. Tony and Tim glared at one another, neither willing to give an inch in the great college football argument. Tim leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at Tony. Tony growled back at him.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Tony finally spoke.

"I think what we have here, McGEE," he said, trying to sound totally unconcerned, "is a case of the Buckeye Brew talking."

Tim looked at Tony as if he were crazy, then shook his head and found himself unable to keep from smiling at his friend.

"A case of the Buckeye Brew talking?" Tim laughed. "That's a good one, Tony."

Tony, unsure of what had just happened, glanced around uncertainly. But figuring he'd obviously gotten back on Tim's good side, he smiled and laughed, too.

"Heh... yeah, well... Game day brings out my special brand of humor." Tony offered Tim another cold beer from the cooler. "Mas cerveza, mi amigo? Chips WHY salsa?" Tim accepted both with a grin. "So, Probie... those MIT football cheerleaders pretty hot?"

"You do the math," Tim sighed, taking a long drink from his Buckeye Brew.


	2. Hey Ladies

Title: Hey Ladies  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance; Friendship  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony's still got it -- but does anyone want it?

**-------------------- Hey Ladies ---------------------**

Before opening the door of his '66 Mustang, Tony DiNozzo did a pre-club check just one more time.

_Shirt: Tight, but not too tight. Unbuttoned just enough to offer a tantalizing peek at his chest hair._

_Hair: Spiky, but not too spiky. Freshly washed, smelling fantastic and rocking the latest, greatest style._

_Body: Hairy, but not too hairy. Freshly washed, smelling fantastic and... rockin'._

_Condoms: One for the expected night back at her place, one for any surprise hookup at the club, one for any emergency and one, well, just because._

_Pick-up lines: All present and accounted for._

Now that everything was in order, Tony smiled at his reflection in the rearview mirror for a final time and exited the car, striding confidently towards the club entrance. Tossing his keys to the valet, he grinned and said, "Tuck her in for a few hours, kid, and tell her Daddy will be back soon." At the door, he greased the bouncer's palm with a $10, conspiratorially whispering, "There's more where that came from, Honcho." Once inside, he took a minute to soak up the atmosphere -- young law students, male and, most importantly for Tony, female -- chatted each other up at the bar or danced to the pulsing beat of the music.

_And we have LIFTOFF_, Tony thought to himself, eyeballing a group of college girls dancing provocatively together out on the floor, waving their cocktail glasses giddily in the air.

Sliding onto a stool at the end of the crowded bar, Tony scanned the girls nearest him for anyone who showed signs of availability. He settled, after a thorough ogling, on an attractive blonde that he judged to be in her early 20s. Long hair, tanned, slim, not lacking in the chest area, great legs -- just his type. He fixed his sparkling green eyes on her, taking a long sip from the martini he'd just ordered. When she noticed him staring, he winked, toasting her with his glass. She returned his gesture by licking her lips. Then she disappeared into the crowd. Tony frowned, craning his neck to look for her among the throng of clubgoers, but he couldn't see her. Sighing, he took another sip of his drink.

"Looking for someone?" Tony heard a voice behind him purr suggestively. Turning, he found the blonde girl leaning against the bar, her eyes taking in the length of his body. He smiled and leaned one arm on the bar, propping his chin on his hand, to meet her smoky gaze.

"Not anymore," Tony said huskily. "What can I get you? Besides a shot of me, I mean." He snickered at his own joke. The girl smirked.

"Since you asked," the girl said slowly and deliberately, "I'm sticking to Appletinis." Tony motioned for the bartender. "But my girlfriend? She's having G&Ts."

Tony lowered his hand, turning back to face the blonde.

"Girlfriend?" he asked. "Girlfriend as in 'Just friends girlfriend' or girlfriend as in 'Friends with benefits GIRLFRIEND girlfriend'?"

The blonde leaned to whisper in Tony's ear.

"Girlfriend as in 'She's standing right behind you and she gets really jealous when cheesy guys try to pick me up every time we go out' girlfriend." Stepping back, she winked. Tony gulped, smiling weakly and turned to see a tall, drop-dead gorgeous Latina flanking him. He laughed nervously.

"Heh... Well, isn't this just the picture of the sexual revolution come to fruition, huh?" He laughed again, clearly uncomfortable. The blonde's girlfriend shot daggers at Tony as she moved to take her lover's arm. The two left the club, the blonde looking back to throw Tony one last smirk as she tossed her hair. He saw her whisper into the Latina's ear and both laughed loudly and cruelly. Through the noise of the club, he heard the blonde say something to her girlfriend about "that pathetic old loser -- PLEASE!" Feeling ashamed, hollow and hurt, Tony drained his drink in one long gulp and sadly started for the exit. _What the hell am I doing, coming here?_ he thought. _I'm almost 40. She's right. I look ridiculous.  
_  
"Nice ass," Tony heard a woman say as he got up from his seat at the bar. He stopped, surprised at the frankness of her remark. But there was something else -- he knew this voice. Looking over his shoulder, he scouted the room for her. At last, his green eyes met her dark stare and he grinned knowingly, raising an eyebrow as he made his way to where she sat, nursing a drink.

"I thought you'd never notice... Ziva," Tony said, settling in beside his partner at a cozy booth tucked away from the main bar and dance floor action. "About time you gave credit where it's due."

"There are many things I notice and admire about you, Tony," Ziva said thickly, lifting a short, thick tumbler to her lips. "Your ass is merely the one I choose to comment on at this particular moment."

"Please," Tony breathed, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Don't hold back. Whatever you have to say, I can take it like a man."

"We will see," Ziva purred. Tony's eyes grew wide. "But you have had such a rough night already, Tony, stroking out with that girl at the bar..."

"Striking out," he corrected. "Although according to her, I was old enough to stroke out." He grimaced, looking down.

"She is a child," Ziva said. "You were wasting your time. You are a man. You deserve a woman."

"Damn straight," Tony agreed. "Know any?"

Ziva pulled Tony to her, kissing him hard, her tongue probing his. He wrapped his arms around her, meeting her embrace with one just as fierce and passionate.

"You need a ride home," Tony said. It wasn't a question.

"Allow me to drive," Ziva replied, pressing her lips against Tony's neck.

"All night," Tony answered, kissing her again. "All night."


	3. ADIDAS

Title: ADIDAS  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Friendship; humor  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: For Tony, it means All Day I Dream About ... Snacks. Yes, snacks. (Well, the other thing, too.)  
**  
-------------------- ADIDAS ---------------------**

_**[7 a.m. — Squad Room]**_

From the second the silver elevator doors opened and Tony DiNozzo stepped out into the squad room, he was hungry. No matter that, just an hour ago at home, he'd downed two cold slices of leftover sausage, pepperoni and extra cheese pizza, a large bowl of Fruity Pebbles and a giant tumbler of chocolate milk. Like his appetite for sex, Tony's appetite for food was never truly satisfied. And so, his stomach now grumbled.

Tossing his gear bag down at his desk, Tony looked around for his colleagues. Ziva, who usually greeted him with a sultry smirk and double entendre about his tardiness (because she always arrived at 0500), was nowhere to be found. McGee, himself sometimes guilty of being a bit less on time than Tony, hadn't shown up yet. Gibbs wasn't there, but the team never questioned his coming and going. _Where IS everybody?_ Tony wondered.

He went back to the elevator, hit the down button and headed to Abby's lab. No Abby. Same thing in Ducky's examination area -- no Ducky, no Jimmy. _Is it Saturday?_ Tony thought. He checked his watch. _Nope, Tuesday_, he mused, frowning. Tony scratched his head, completely confused, and made his way back upstairs via the elevator.

Taking his seat at his desk, Tony glanced around the squad room. The other teams had started arriving and were going about their morning routines, routines that he usually paid no attention to since, by now, he, Ziva and McGee were well into their own ritual of cracking jokes at each others' expense as a way of easing into their day.

_Well_, Tony thought to himself, _when The Boss is away, Anthony will play_. Grinning wickedly, he jumped up from his desk and bolted for the break room.

_**[7:45 a.m. — Squad Room]**_

Turning the corner by his desk at breakneck speed, Tony leaped into his waiting chair. Once seated, he reached into his suit jacket chest pocket and pulled out a large chocolate bar, letting out a loud "Ha HAH!" Then, frowning with the effort, he fiddled around in his pants pockets and produced a pack of snack crackers, some Cheezy Pops and a little bag of chocolate candy. Studying the small pile of loot on his desk, he raised an eyebrow, peeked in his suit jacket pocket once more and whipped out a two-pack of Hunny-Buns. Sniffing the plastic wrapping, Tony turned his back towards the desk for a little post-breakfast snacking privacy, breathed out a lusty "AHHHHHHHH!," tore into the package and took a huge bite of one Hunny-Bun, smearing thick icing all around his mouth, when he heard...

"You _pay_ for any of that, DiNozzo?"

... Gibbs' voice. His boss stood behind him across the desk. Tony slowly turned around, icing still covering his face.

"Mmmph... Hwai Bwass," he mumbled, a gooey mess of Hunny-Bun unchewed in his mouth. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, further smearing the icing over to his cheek. "Huddny-Budn?" Smiling weakly, he brandished the other Hunny-Bun, now squashed and runny in the plastic wrap, and held it out in offer to Gibbs, who looked at it -- and Tony -- with utter disdain.

"Get to work, DiNozzo," Gibbs said in a quiet, furious tone and walked to his desk.

"Mmmffhhh... Obbn iddt Bwass!" Tony smacked loudly, chewing up the last of his Hunny-Bun. When he finished, he arose from his chair and started again for the break room. From his desk across the way, Gibbs shot him a fierce look. Tony stopped in his tracks, turned to face Gibbs and said innocently, "Need coffee, Boss."

"WORK, DiNOZZO! NOW!" Gibbs yelled, so loudly that the whole squad room fell silent.

Shamed, Tony sat at his desk and began tapping away at his computer, sighing as he started the day's business. _Shoulda at least TRIED to see if the coffee machine was good for a freebie_, he thought sadly.

_**[2:30 p.m. — Squad Room]**_

Having only gotten out of Gibbs that Ducky, Abby and Jimmy were at a forensics conference for the day and Vance had requested McGee's help at a high-tech SecNav meeting out of the office (Gibbs had said nothing about Ziva's absence), Tony found that working alone with The Boss was something of a living nightmare. After Gibbs' outburst that morning, Tony had been afraid to take lunch so he worked through what normally would have been his hour -- OK, hour and then some -- break. His stomach growled, unhappy at not having been fed its normal daily allowance of hourly snacks. Also, he had to pee. But since Gibbs had downed numerous cups of coffee that a young, pretty red-headed probie kept bringing him every two hours -- without getting up to hit the head -- Tony had been holding it since 0700. _Dying_, he thought, crossing his legs in obvious discomfort, _I'm dying_.

Finally, unable to wait any longer, Tony suddenly broke from his desk and ran full-tilt for the men's room. When the whole squad room heard him exclaim "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! OH MY GOD, YES! YES! YES! YESSSSSS!," it went silent (again) and, upon Tony's re-emergence, burst into laughter. Tony's face turned beet-red and he puffed out his chest indignantly.

Glaring at Gibbs, who sat stone-faced staring at him, Tony straightened his tie and barked "And I will HAVE my coffee!" Turning on his heel, he strode off to the break room. Gibbs watched him go, breaking out into laughter at the spectacle.

_**[2:45 p.m. — Squad Room]**_

Tony returned to his desk in a better mood, feeling he should make amends with Gibbs.

"I come bearing gifts, Boss!" he said, rounding the corner towards Gibbs' desk. But Gibbs wasn't there. Tony stood, in the middle of the aisle, holding two large cups of coffee, looking confused.

"He is not here, Tony." The sound of Ziva's voice made Tony jump slightly. She, like Gibbs, had the ability to sneak up behind him unnoticed. It both rattled him and curiously aroused him -- more so the latter. He turned, smirking, to face her.

"Really, _Ziva_?" Tony cocked his head to the side. "I hadn't noticed that the Boss wasn't SITTING AT HIS DESK and -- OH YEAH! HA-HAH! -- I was standing here TALKING to MYSELF!" He growled audibly at her. She growled back. They each raised an eyebrow at each other, neither willing to stop staring the other down. At last, Tony broke when Ziva licked her lips and teeth seductively at him. "Cheater!" he hissed, narrowing his eyes at her, dizzy with desire after witnessing the sexy gesture. Ziva winked at Tony, taking Gibbs' coffee out of his hand for herself. Tony's eyes focused on her hips as she strode slowly to her desk. Taking her seat, she eyeballed Tony up and down as he carefully made his own way back to his work area, sitting down in a way that looked most uncomfortable for him. Again, they exchanged smoky gazes across the aisle as they sipped their coffees.

Tony picked up the chocolate bar he'd nicked from the vending machine earlier that morning, sitting it on end. Slowly and deliberately, he started unwrapping it. Ziva watched, leaning forward to get a better view. Tony peeled down the paper wrapping, then the silver crinkle covering, exposing the dark chocolate. Ziva licked her lips again. Tony smiled teasingly at her, leaned back in his chair and held out the chocolate bar towards her. She rose and came towards him. Breaking off half the bar, she placed it in her mouth, took a bite and said "Mmmm..." Then she headed back to her desk. Tony took in a sharp breath, brought his half of the chocolate bar to his mouth and ripped off a huge chunk hungrily. He and Ziva shared a knowing smile, unable to take their eyes off one another. The tension between them hung heavy in the air and Tony felt the need to take Ziva out of the squad room to someplace private, someplace where they could act on what they were feeling at that moment, someplace where he didn't hear the words...

"You eatin' _again_, DiNozzo?"

... as Gibbs once again silently came up behind him, frowning at Tony's lack of discipline and lust for snacking.

Knowing there was no escape, Tony sat up straight in his chair, stiffened his shoulders and faced his boss. Reaching into his breast pocket where he kept his NCIS badge, he brought the polished black leather holder out, laying it on his desk. Gibbs watched him, unsure of what Tony was doing. Ziva, too, was curious.

Was Tony quitting? Was this the end of the DiNozzo Era at NCIS?

Tony reached back into his breast pocket. His eyes were locked with Gibbs'. He produced a small item and held it out to Gibbs.

"Cheezy Pops, Boss?"

Gibbs looked at Tony, then at Ziva, said nothing and sat at his desk. Then he got up, snatched the Cheezy Pops out of Tony's hand and headed for the elevator.

"I'm gonna pay for that," Tony sighed, looking wearily at Ziva. She winked at him.

"That," she said seductively, "would be a first."


	4. Milk Bread Eggs

Title: Milk Bread Eggs  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony goes grocery shopping and picks up something not on his list.

**-------------------- Milk Bread Eggs ---------------------**

_God, I love grocery shopping,_ Tony thought as he strode through the supermarket's automatic doors. The cool air from inside hit him and he whipped off his mirrored sunglasses, licking his lips as he took in the scene around him.  
_  
Miles of aisles of snacks... hot, single women fondling various odd-shaped fruits and vegetables... ahhhh... what's NOT to love?_ Grabbing a small basket, Tony plotted where to start his weekly shopping/flirting. _PRODUCE SECTION!_ Tony thought, making a beeline for the area with the "Fresh Fruits & Vegetables" sign.

Strolling along the bright green offerings, Tony zeroed in on a twentysomething blonde, slim and taller than average. Her cart was, he noticed, filled with fruits and vegetables. She was handling some tomatoes, feeling them for firmness. _Ohhhhh yeaaaah..._ Tony thought, watching the young woman's hands work the tomatoes. He sidled over to her.

"Nothing like good, fresh tomatoes," Tony said brightly, his eyes darting down to the girl's hands, which continued testing the tomatoes. "The firmer..." he paused, his green eyes sparkling as they lingered on her hands, "... the better." Tony purposedly scratched at his chest hair through his slightly open shirt, hoping the girl would take notice of what he had to offer. A sexy smile played at his lips. "Eat your vegetables, that's what Mother always used to say."

"Tomatoes are fruit," the blonde said flatly, wrinkling her nose at the sight of Tony scratching his chest. She bagged the tomatoes she was holding and put them in her cart, walking away from Tony. Undaunted, he followed her.

"Fruit... vegetables... I eat so many of 'em all that they're all a blur of mouth-watering green goodness to me," Tony bragged. "Yeah, eating healthy. Most guys are all about the burgers and pizza and donuts but me? I gotta have my..." he quickly looked for a name of any fruit or vegetable to drop, "...kumquats. Mmmm... kumquats. Can't get enough of those... kumquats." He grabbed some kumquats and tossed them into his cart, flashing the blonde a dazzling smile. She glared at him.

"Oh, it's obvious you're Mr. Ship-Shape," the blonde sneered, rolling her eyes as she looked down at Tony's stomach. Tony hurriedly sucked in his little gut, puffing out his chest. Just then, a muscular young man walked up carrying two large jugs of purified water.

"Found our brand, babe," the man said to the girl, eyeballing Tony suspiciously. "All the rest weren't anti-microbial so..." He stared hard at Tony, who now pretended to be extremely interested in some eggplant. "Everything okay?" the man asked his girlfriend, nodding slightly at Tony. Tony began whistling nervously, trying to sidle away.

"Yeah," the blonde said, rolling her eyes again, "he was just telling me about his love for kumquats. Let's go. We're gonna be late for the gym." The muscular man shot one more hard stare at Tony, who had moved down to the Bag-O-Salads, and he led his girlfriend off. Tony let out a loud "WHEW!" and, tossing the kumquats out of his cart as fast as he could, made a "yuck" face at the fruits and vegetables surrounding him. _The hell with this_, he thought, _it's frozen pizza time._

Standing in the frozen foods aisle, Tony took a minute to savor the sight of one full aisle dedicated to frozen pizza. _So many toppings... so little cash_, he thought, sighing. Taking stock of how much money he had, Tony figured he could afford only five pizzas this trip. _Must... control... self..._ Tony told himself as he salivated at the images of the piping hot pizza on the boxes. _Save... money... for... snacks... too..._

Opening the freezer door, Tony grabbed at the first group of boxes he saw. Pepperoni... Pepperoni and Sausage... Double Pepperoni... Double Pepperoni and Sausage... and his ultimate favorite... Pepperoni, Sausage and Extra Cheese. Stacking the boxes in his basket, he sighed with ecstasy and moved to the snack aisle.

"Ha! Ha ha HAH!" Tony laughed as he piled taco chips, salsa and huge bags of various snack chips into his now nearly-overflowing handbasket. "DONUTS!" he yelped, skipping over to the bread aisle. After a quick inventory of available flavors, he plucked a box of large chocolate-covered donuts from the shelf. Then he grabbed some honey buns.

_Breakfast and dinner? Taken care of..._ Tony thought as he strolled along the aisles. _Now for lunch..._ Making his way to the deli, he studied the Heat-N-Eat takeaway dishes. A giant pre-cooked cheeseburger caught his attention. Flipping it into the basket, Tony grinned. "Lunch... CHECK!" he said, fantasizing about wrapping his lips around the hot bun, meat and gooey cheese when he got home. To finish off his supermarket trip, he swung by the Beer & Wine cooler and picked up a 12-pack of his favorite beer.

As Tony piled his groceries onto the conveyor at the checkout, the middle-aged clerk eyed his purchases as she scanned them and gave him a withering look. He frowned back at her, then picked up a copy of _Cosmopolitan_ and flipped to an article titled "Pleasing Your Man With A Whisk And A Pan: 10 Sexy Breakfasts In Bed." Raising an eyebrow at what the article suggested couples do with the whisk after breakfast, Tony didn't notice that someone else standing behind him in the checkout line was reading over his shoulder.

"Interesting..." the voice, a woman's, said. "... but I would use the whisk in more of a fluffing motion myself. Otherwise, you will bend the whisk." Tony's eyes popped wide open. He instantly recognized the voice. Without turning around, he responded.

"And how would you know this? Personal experience? It's a well-known fact that you don't cook. So why would you be using a whisk?" Tony again raised an eyebrow, continuing to scan the article.

"There are many uses for a whisk that do not involve... cooking," the woman said teasingly. "It says so right there in your magazine."

"It's not MY magazine," Tony countered, slapping the _Cosmo_ shut and hastily replacing it on the magazine holder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to pay for my groceries." He moved up to the checkout and pulled out his wallet, handing the cashier his money.

"Well," the woman said, "you do not have to get quippy about it. I was merely making an observation."

"Snippy," Tony corrected, taking his change from the cashier. He began hoisting his grocery bags. "The word is 'snippy,' Miss Magic Chef." Arms full of bags, Tony headed out of the store.

Outside, Tony fumbled with his groceries as he tried opening the door of his vintage 1966 Mustang. Sighing, he gingerly placed the beer on the rooftop along with the pizzas. Tony opened the door and put his bags in the car, sliding into the driver's seat. Starting the engine, he backed out of his parking space and drove to the grocery store entrance. There, he waited.

When the woman he'd bickered with in the checkout line emerged, he rolled down the passenger's side window and offered her a conciliatory smile.

"Hey, listen... I was kind of a jackass back there," Tony said. "Gimme a second chance? I make a much better first impression when I got some pepperoni, sausage and extra cheese pizza and a couple beers in me. Truce?"

"You questioned my skills with a whisk," the woman replied. "And my English." She continued walking towards the bus stop. Tony slowly drove alongside her.

"I'm a detective," Tony said. "I'm always curious. Hey, where's your car? You need a ride? Hop in. I just happen to be going your way."

"I am capable of walking, thank you," the woman said.

"Aw, dammit, Ziva," Tony finally said. "Just get in the car, will ya? I know I was a jerk. But I'm always a jerk. Lemme make it up to you with pizza and beer at my place."

"I saw your pizza selections," Ziva said, walking on. "None of them are kosher. I cannot join you in eating them, Tony. Sorry."

"You can have my cheeseburger," Tony said, parking his car. He hopped out and opened the passenger side door. "Ziva, c'mon. Have dinner with me? Please? PLEASE?" Looking down, he admitted, "I'm lonely, okay? I just don't wanna be by myself tonight. I'd like to be with you." Ziva blushed and got into the car. Tony closed the car door and walked around to the driver's side. He slid in, grinning. "Well, then... what'll it be, my ninja? Dinner and a movie? Movie and dinner? Dinner and no movie? Or just an entire evening of hot, gooey DiNozzo goodness? Like, a Tony-thon? Because," Tony said teasingly, "I can go all night long, y'know."

"I stopped by the produce aisle and picked up some tomatoes along with some other vegetables so I will make myself a salad," Ziva replied, smiling. "Also, I would like to finish reading this." She pulled the issue of _Cosmopolitan_ Tony had been reading from her bag. Tony snarled at her playfully. She smirked back at him.

"Tomatoes are really fruits, y'know," Tony said. "Lotta people think they're vegetables but they're not. Common mistake."

"I myself like them," Ziva purred, "the firmer, the better." She licked the inside of her teeth.

"Salad's soundin' pretty good to me right now," Tony said, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as he stepped on the gas.

"And since you asked," Ziva replied, "I will be happy to demonstrate my skills with a whisk tonight -- if you are interested, Tony."

"Then I say... let's get cookin'," Tony answered, a huge smile crossing his face as the Mustang zipped down the road.


	5. Sex And The Single DiNozzo

Title: Sex And The Single DiNozzo  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony reflects on the best sex he's ever had. Guess who comes in No. 1.

**-------------------- Sex And The Single DiNozzo ---------------------**

_Good sex, _Tony thought._ No -- GREAT sex. MIND-BLOWING sex. The kind of sex that leaves you numb. The kind that has you waking up wondering where you are, how you got there and why you're lying on the hood of a bumper car at PlayLand, flat on your back, handcuffed to the steering wheel, naked and slathered in whipped cream wearing a blindfold. Did those moms really have to stare like that? But, hey, the one mom DID slip me her number before the cops took me away so it wasn't a total loss. She looked a lot better at PlayLand, though. I shoulda known something was wrong because she didn't have any kids with her, just all those big stuffed clowns she'd won playing skee-ball. Tea with Mr. Giggles was just awkward on that first -- and last -- date. Creepy..._

_I am a guy who knows ALL about great sex. MIND-BLOWING sex. The kind of sex that... you get the point. Ha HAH! I've had so much great sex I'm just about jaded. I may have to start having bad sex like McLoser soon just to balance things out._

_Scratch that. I'll never have bad sex. I'm incapable of it. I'm a DiNozzo man. We can only have amazing sex with any woman we come into contact with._

_And the BEST sex I've ever had? Heh heh heh... Well, THAT was with..._

_... hey, wait._

_Who WAS it with?_

_Okay, let's skip the 'playing doctor' elementary school learning about doing it years, the junior high 'getting to first, second and third' years and even the high school and college 'honing my craft' years. Hell, we might as well skip the post-graduate 'Detective Doin' It' years and focus on the NCIS years, because the chicks I've sacked as VERY Special Agent Tony DiNozzo? Have been the most high-quality vintage. In a class all their own. In fact, I'm gonna have to break 'em down individually to see who comes out on top. Heh heh heh... yeah... pun intended._

_Let's get started._

_Paula Cassidy -- Ahhhhhhh ha HAH! The best thing about Paula was, she was just in it for the sex, too. Didn't want a commitment from me. Just sex. It was like... she was the chick version of me. Which meant I knew what to expect. But Kate didn't have to say that me screwing around with Paula was basically just me, um, screwing myself. Which she DID say. All the time. She was just jealous. Kate always wanted me._

_And speaking of Kate..._

_Kate Todd -- GREAT sex. AMAZING in the sack. But what would you expect from a hot babe who won a wet t-shirt contest? Heh heh heh... When she'd put on that old Catholic schoolgirl uniform of hers and handcuff me to the bed, well... OK, fine. So Kate and I never actually HAD sex. I just imagined us having sex. A lot. But if Kate and I would've had sex? Ha ha HAH! Would... have... been... SOOOOOOOOO... hot. I'm kidding... just kidding. I miss Kate -- and Paula. They were both cool chicks. Rest in peace, ladies. Seriously. You girls were great._

_How about some more recent scores?_

_Jeanne Benoit -- I loved her. Or thought I did. I keep saying it was love but the longer she's been gone, the more I'm not sure about that. I told this girl about her last year. Said the situation was "Real doctor. Real love. Real bad breakup." But nothing about my relationship with Jeanne was really "real." The sex was hot. Clingy but hot. She was looking for a husband, I know that much. And back then I thought maybe I wanted the whole house, kids, picket fence deal with her. It's like I said, though. That's changed over the past year or so. I still want those things -- someday. Just... not with Jeanne. Not anymore. Also, she accused me of killing her father, which I didn't do. That was kind of a dealbreaker. I let it go but it still hurt. I was sorry I had to lie to her and I told her that. Guess it wasn't enough. Oh well. Truth is -- and it's been hard for me to come to terms with this but now I finally get it -- she and I weren't right for each other and it was never gonna work no matter what. I'm better off without her. So when I say "I loved her," what I mean is "I told myself I loved her." But really, it wasn't true. Just like everything else between us. I've moved on._

_Ziva David -- Went all the way to North Africa to find her. After I almost got killed by that psycho Mossad boyfriend of hers, Rivkin. The bastard. It was kill or be killed. I think she understands that now, thank God. Got myself kidnapped and held hostage on purpose for her. Told her I couldn't live without her. Also told her she'd better not ask me anything she didn't really want to know the answers to. Truth serum -- I was high as a kite; would've yapped about... things. Couple years ago I used to go to her apartment once a week every week. And that information? Is classified. Can't talk about what we did or why we did it. Sworn to secrecy by my ninja. Thank God that guy didn't ask me when he shot me full of his little truth serum cocktail. Probie wasn't really unconscious and if he'd ever heard the details... GOD, I'd have never lived it down. McMotormouth would've OWNED me based on what he could've told Abby and Gibbs and Ducky about Ziva and me and those nights at her place back in the day. We spent a night together once posing as a married couple, too. Stayed in a ritzy D.C. hotel pretending to be assassins who did it all the time. Had to put on a great, uh, show in case we were bein' watched -- and we knew we were bein' watched. So we REALLY put on a show. Except... they just thought it was a show. But let's just say... not ALL of it was pretend sex. I'll leave it at that._

_I still go over that night in my mind, again and again. Because it was the most incredible night I've had with any woman. Ever._

_Better than just fooling around with Paula for fun. Better than anything I might've had with Kate if we hadn't just been friends, really. Better than anything I ever had with Jeanne for certain._

_Ziva... Ziva's the best. Guess I'd have to say SHE's the one of my many women who... heh... comes out on top._

_And that's just where she likes it best, anyway. _


	6. Your Six

Title: Your Six  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Ziva goes on a date with FBI Agent Ron Sacks. Tony, predictably, goes crazy.

**-------------------- Your Six ---------------------**

_Slacks_, Tony thought bitterly. He stuck out his lower lip, pouting, as he folded his arms across his chest. _SLACKS! _

Ziva chuckled conspiratorially as she listened to whatever Tony's nemesis, Agent Ron Sacks, had to say on the other end of the phone line. Tony glared at his partner from his desk. She returned his look with one even dirtier, gritting her teeth at him, and he growled back at her, making monster claws with his hands for emphasis. After a few minutes of this, Ziva simply cut her dark brown eyes at him cruelly, then looked away as she continued her conversation with Sacks. This, more than the dirty glance she'd shot his way, hurt; Tony hated it when Ziva ignored him. Sacks had the whole of her attention and it was infuriating Tony. When, after what seemed like an eternity, Ziva finally ended the call and started tapping away at her computer keyboard, Tony got up from his chair and sidled over to her desk.

"So... tell me, _Zee-vah_," Tony said tauntingly, a big fake smile on his face, "what WAS so gosh-darned funny? Did you call Dial-A-Joke? Was the gag 'o' the day along _these_ lines? 'Knock Knock' 'Who's There?' 'Slacks' 'Slacks Who?' _SLACKS WHO YOU JUST SPENT THE LAST TWENTY MINUTES PLAYING GIGGLEFITS WITH ON NCIS TIME, THAT'S WHO!_" Tony's handsome face contorted into an angry snarl, his green eyes burned with fury. Ziva calmly studied Tony, somewhat enjoying the scene playing out before her.

"HAVE you quite FINISHED with your little TEMPER tantrum, Tony?!!!" Ziva demanded, suddenly rising up out of her chair to face Tony head-on. He shuddered, surprised at the move.

"Temper Tantrum Tony," McGee, who'd just come back from lunch and was strolling by, joked. "I like that. Temper Tantrum Tony..."

"SHUT your _piehole_, McBurgerBreath!" Tony snapped. "And YOU," he turned back to the still-seething Ziva, "Just what were you and _SLACKS_ getting so HA-HA-HA chummy about?" Tony made his voice sound high-pitched and girly. "Oh _SLACKS_! You're so _FUNNY_! Ohhhh tee hee hee hee _HEE_!" Ziva glared at him, shaking her head in disbelief.

"My VOICE..." she began "... does NOT sound like THAT! And that is NOT how our conversation went at ALL!" She put her hands on her hips, staring into Tony's eyes. "YOU should not have been listening ANYWAY!"

"Yeah, well," Tony shot back, "too bad because..." he mimicked her pose, putting his hands on his hips as he leaned in close to face her, "... I _was_ listening!"

"Then I suppose you heard that Ron and I have a _date_ tonight," Ziva said, smirking. Tony's expression immediately changed. He looked sick.

"No," he said softly. "I didn't catch that part."

"Surprise," Ziva answered coldly, retaking her seat.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The waiter seated Ziva and Sacks at their table, pouring both glasses of water. After promising to return in a few moments with menus and to offer them the evening's fine wine selection, he left.

From where he sat, at a small table in the rear of the restaurant near the kitchen entrance, Tony watched the pair intently. Not a single move Ziva or Sacks made missed his notice. When Sacks, once again saying something that made Ziva laugh, reached over to take her hand in his, Tony clenched his jaw. His body tensed. He was jealous as hell.

_Yeah_, Tony thought, _and here I thought we had something. Didn't that night we spent together after grocery shopping mean a damn thing to her? The night we spent together after we hooked up at the club? The night we... aw, hell... we've spent a lotta nights together. And now she's with Slacks.  
_  
When the waiter brought Ziva and Sacks wine, Tony couldn't take it anymore.  
_  
What the hell am I doing?_ he thought. _You want him, Sweet Cheeks? You got him._

He tossed down a couple of dollars and left.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Steve McQueen and Ali MacGraw sped down a highway on Tony's big-screen TV. The pair, lovers in the film he was watching, had been fighting over her character's having admitted to sleeping with another man. "The Getaway" was one of Tony's favorite movies. Tonight, he identified with McQueen's character, "Doc". Tony was feeling bitterly jealous, too.

The knock at his door startled him, causing him to jump slightly. Tony didn't want to get up from his comfy place on the couch but after a minute or more of the knocking, he finally groaned and moved to answer the door.

He was surprised to find Ziva waiting for him.

"Hello, Tony," Ziva said, somewhat sheepishly. Tony found this odd, too. "I hope I am not interrupting your evening."

"Actually, you are," Tony replied, the sarcasm evident in his voice. "My pal Steve and his girlfriend Ali just stopped by. They're on their way to Mexico."

"Oh," Ziva said, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I will come back another time." She turned to leave.

"Ziva," Tony said, gently putting his hand on her arm, "I'm kidding. I'm just watching a movie, that's all."

"With your friends Steve and Ali?" Ziva was confused. Tony chuckled, touched at how seriously she'd taken his words.

"Steve and Ali are IN the movie," Tony joked. "Steve McQueen? Ali MacGraw? 'The Getaway'? 1972? Sam Peckinpah directing? Nothing, huh..." Ziva just stared at him. He motioned for her to join him inside. "C'mon in."

Ziva entered Tony's apartment and took a seat on the couch. Tony shut off the movie, settling down on the other end of the sofa.

"So," he said brightly, folding his hands behind his head as he leaned back against the sofa cushions, "date with Slacks end early?"

"It did," Ziva answered. "He was not good company tonight." Tony raised his eyebrows, honestly surprised.

"Reeeeeally? _SLACKS_ a bad date?" Tony wanted to hear the details so he could needle Sacks about it the next time he saw him. "Oh, _do _tell."

"I would rather not," Ziva replied. Trying to change the subject, she smiled primly and politely asked Tony, "Since the night is _not old_, would you like to go for coffee?"

"_Young_," Tony corrected. "The night is _young_. And sure. But _after_ you tell me what happened with Slacks." Tony narrowed his green eyes teasingly at Ziva. She let out a little "_grrrr_" and sighed.

"Fine," Ziva said. "Ron said..."

"_Ron..._" Tony repeated sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Ziva crossed her arms, unhappy at being interrupted. "Sorry," Tony said quietly.

"...something that I found offensive. I told him I would prefer that he not speak in that manner around me. He said that he was entitled to his opinions and that is when I let him know our date was over. Also, that we would _not_ be going out again."

"Ha HAH!" Tony laughed, sitting up. "You DUMPED Slacks!" A huge smile crossed Tony's handsome face. "What'd he say that pissed you off? C'mon, you can tell me. Tell me... TELL me!" He leaned forward to hear. Ziva sighed again.

"He said that... you were an egomaniac, that he cannot stand you and that he could not understand why you and I are so close." Ziva's features clouded with real anger. "I am not going to let _anyone_ speak that way about you, Tony. So I ... I gave him a _part_ of my mind. He was not pleased."

"A _piece_ of your mind," Tony said, blushing. He was quiet for a minute, then looked up tenderly at Ziva. "You took up for _me_? I thought you were mad as hell this afternoon. You sure acted like you were. Not that I didn't ... kind of push you." He looked down at the couch, feeling suddenly vulnerable.

"Tony..." Ziva said, reaching to touch his hand. "I admit... I was a little upset earlier but... I missed you tonight. Even before Ron started saying what he did, I was thinking of you." She sighed. "Going out with Ron was a mistake. I realize that now. He and I have nothing in common. You and I? Do. I enjoy being with you. Always." Tony caressed her palm with his thumb.

"I followed you and Sacks to the restaurant, you know," he admitted softly. "Watched you for a while. Couldn't take it so I left. Hated seeing you with him." His eyes again met hers. "I hate seeing you with any other man, Ziva."

"And I hate seeing you with other women," she countered.

"Then you won't..." Tony replied, "...see me with other women. Because there won't be any other women. Just you, Ziva. Cross my heart." He made a 'cross' gesture over his chest with his free hand, pulling Ziva's hand up to his lips with his other hand. Sweetly, he pressed his lips to her palm.

"I will see only you, Tony. No other men." Ziva leaned over to touch Tony's cheek. Tenderly, she brought her lips to his. They kissed softly. "You are all that I need. Or want."

"That's good... That's real good, Sweet Cheeks. I'll always be on your six," Tony murmured, reluctantly pulling his lips from Ziva's, "Because you and I? We're great together, Ziva." He gave her a kiss on the neck, running his lips along her skin. "And personally, I've never thought Slacks... looked good on you."


	7. Trick

Title: Trick  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: It's Halloween and Tony wants treats. Guess who obliges.

**-------------------- Trick ---------------------**

Finally, the doorbell stopped ringing. Ziva, who'd been enjoying handing out treats to the vampires, ghouls, witches and superheroes who'd come to call all evening, was somewhat sad at the silence. Then again, she was also out of candy so maybe it _was_ time for the fun to end.

Just as she'd settled in on the sofa with a mystery novel, the doorbell rang.

_Of course_, Ziva sighed. _And me with nothing to give them._ She quickly scanned her kitchen for any kind of candy or sweets. Nothing. At last, she grabbed the only snack in sight. _It will have to do_, she thought.

Opening the door with her brightest smile, Ziva awaited the now-familiar refrain: "Trick-or-Treat!"

Instead, Tony greeted her. He wore a black suit with a white shirt and a black tie. Black shoes and black sunglasses finished the look.

"Gimme something GOOD to eat," he said teasingly, pulling down the sunglasses. "Men In Black? Get it?" Tony asked, fingering his tie. Ziva stared at him blankly. "From the movie? Ah, nevermind. Happy Halloween, Sweet Cheeks." His green eyes sparkled with desire. He leaned over and gave Ziva a kiss.

Ziva grinned slyly. She gripped Tony's belt, also black. He sucked in his breath, shocked at the move. Ziva pulled him towards her. Tony broke out in a sweat, breathing hard.

Into his hip pocket, she tucked the only treat she had left -- a firm yellow banana.

"And yes," Tony gasped, as Ziva's hand pressed the banana against his thigh. "I AM happy to see you, too."


	8. Treat

Title: Treat  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Ziva puts on a special Halloween costume just for Tony.

**-------------------- Treat ---------------------**

Tony lay in Ziva's bed, blindfolded, and loving the feel of the fuzzy black handcuffs on his wrists. He moaned with pleasure, wearing only his tight black g-string. Ziva had been gone since she'd stripped him of his "Men In Black" suit Halloween costume and cuffed him to the bed. Tony could barely breathe he was so excited, anticipating what she had in store for him.

"Sweet Cheeks?" he called. "Wherefore _art_ thou, my ninja?" Tony tried to sit up, pulling against the handcuffs. "This isn't some kind of _trick_, is it, Sugar Puff?" He gulped. What if she was having her revenge for his eating the last piece of pizza the night before? Or taking half her sandwich at lunch a couple of days earlier? Or snagging her coffee off her desk on Monday? Or... there were just so MANY things. Tony whimpered.

"It is no trick, my little furry prisoner of love," Ziva purred. Tony felt her climb onto the bed, straddling him. He smiled broadly, giving Ziva a toothy grin. "Tonight, for you, I have only _treats_." Tony giggled as Ziva ran her hands through the hair on his chest. It tickled.

Suddenly, she whipped off Tony's blindfold, yelling "BOO!" Tony's smile turned to shock, his giggles to screams when he saw Ziva, wearing a fright mask covered in blood, a giant axe sticking out of the skull.

Ziva pulled off the mask and tossed her head back, laughing out loud. Tony gasped for air.

"_You_ were _scared_, Tony!" Ziva teased. "I _tricked_ you! HA! Happy Halloween!" She smiled, proud of herself. Tony glared back at her.

"Oh, I think we know who the Hallo-_WEENIE_ here is," Tony hissed.

"Ohhhh..." Ziva pouted, mimicking Tony. "Someone is _not_ a happy cramper."

"_Camper_," Tony corrected. "And maybe I don't want to _play_ anymore!" He stuck out his lower lip, angry, and tugged at his handcuffs.

"You do not want to see the rest of my costume?" Ziva said, winking. She began untying her satin nightrobe. Tony raised his eyebrows, interested. At last, the nightrobe fell from her bare shoulders. Tony's eyes went wide with excitement. He smiled again.

"_WHAT_ costume?" Tony said huskily as Ziva leaned towards him, her lips hungrily locking with his in the night's first passionate kiss.


	9. Whispering

Title: Whispering  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony. Ziva. Bedroom talk. Yay.

**-------------------- Whispering ---------------------**

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Tony asked, nuzzling Ziva's neck. He chuckled softly. "I, uh, I've never met a girl who did... _that_." Tony smiled, staring into Ziva's dark brown eyes.

"Then you have never met the right girl," Ziva teased, pulling Tony into a heated kiss. Her tongue probed his.

"I have _now_," he said breathlessly, reluctantly tearing his lips from hers. "C'mon... tell me," Tony persisted. "I know they don't teach that move at the Mossad School For Assassins."

"You would be surprised," Ziva purred, "what we learn in training." Tony raised one eyebrow, eager to hear more.

"I _love_ surprises," he said huskily. "How about surprising me all night long? Starting right now?"

"All in good time," Ziva answered, playing with Tony's chest hair. "You are not yet ready."

"Not ready?" Tony frowned. He laughed dismissively. "Sweet Cheeks, remember when we were pretending to be that assassin couple at that really swank hotel and I told you that what you felt on _your_ leg was _my_ knee?"

"I remember," Ziva said, staring into Tony's green eyes.

"Well, Sugar Lump," Tony replied breathily, his voice low with desire, "this time, that's... _NOT_ my knee." He flashed Ziva a broad, toothy grin. "So... I think it's safe to say... I'm really REALLY ready."

"If you insist," Ziva said, shrugging. "But I cannot be held responsible for any injury to you resulting from... awkward positioning." Tony's eyes lit up.

"Ha ha HAH! _Awkward positioning_, she says!" A huge smile brightened his face. "Ziva, Ziva, _Ziva_... I _like_ it awkward! The awkwarder the better!" He frowned. "Awkwarder? Is that a word? Who _cares?!!!_ Let's get awkward!"

Ziva sat up, cracking her knuckles. Tony's smile faded. He gulped with fear. Ziva narrowed her dark eyes at him as she flexed her arms, limbering them up. An evil grin played at her lips.

"On second thought," Tony said, shuddering, "let's just... cuddle."


	10. Texas Hold 'Em

Title: Texas Hold 'Em  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony has a new rival for Ziva's affections.

**-------------------- Texas Hold 'Em ---------------------**

"You have a new assignment and it doesn't include me," Tony said, sidling up to Ziva's desk. "Tell me everything."

"I cannot," Ziva replied stiffly, not bothering to even look at Tony, who now leaned over her left shoulder. "It is top secret."

"We have no secrets anymore," Tony countered huskily. "Not after Halloween night. Not after what you did to me when I was handcuffed to your bed."

"You asked me to keep that a secret, Tony," Ziva answered. "But if you would like, I will tell everyone how you are ticklish right around your..."

"Shhhhh!" Tony quickly admonished, his eyes growing wide. "We said we'd never speak of that again. Until I asked you to do it to me. Again."

"As you wish," Ziva said, continuing to study a file on her computer.

"C'mon, Ziva," Tony whined. "Tell me about your new assignment! How come I'M not your partner on this one? Who IS your partner? Are they bringing in Callen from L.A.? That Hanna guy? The Kensi chick? Or are they sticking McGoo to you like McGlue?" He giggled at his own joke.

"I am sorry, but I cannot tell you about the assignment, Tony, or who I will be working with." Ziva tapped away at her keyboard. "Those are my orders."

"Says who?" Tony said in a low, breathy voice, speaking intimately into Ziva's ear. He took the opportunity to breathe in her perfume, which never failed to arouse him. Ziva shivered, the heat of Tony's breath on her neck giving her chills.

"Says _me_, DiNozzo," Gibbs answered brusquely from his desk next to Ziva's. "When you're done with today's grabass break, ya think you can actually get some _work_ done?"

"Work is my middle name, Boss!" Tony chirped nervously, gliding back over towards his own desk. He fumbled with his tie; Ziva snickered at the sight. "Actually, my middle name is 'Daniel' because we're Catholic and there's this thing about naming boys after saints. And I'm anything but a saint. Oh, the irony isn't lost on me, Boss, no sirree... heh heh..." Tony grimaced and quickly sat down, opening a file. Gibbs glared at him.

Just then, a man's voice interrupted the group as they began settling into their day.

"Damn! Y'all sure are a quiet bunch around here. I know you don't like talkin' much, Gibbs, but dang man... You got somethin' against free association? 'Cause me, I like to freely associate." The man, a tall blond with a goatee, spoke with a twangy Southern drawl. He sat on the edge of Ziva's desk like he owned it. She smiled shyly, looking up at him. He winked back at her. "'Specially with Agent David here." Ziva blushed. Gibbs glanced up at the man, rolled his eyes and went back to his paperwork.

From his desk across the aisle, Tony fumed. _HIM again_, he thought. _Why is HE back?_ Tony seethed with jealousy watching Ziva flirt with the man.

The man, who had been locked in a sexy staring match with Ziva, at last slowly turned his eyes Tony's way.

"DiNozzo," he drawled. "What's the good word, man?" He flashed Tony a brief, perfunctory grin before turning back to smile at Ziva.

"Long time, no see," Tony replied, a bitter smirk curling his lips. "How's it hangin'... _Chad?_"


	11. GreenEyed Monster

Title: Green-Eyed Monster  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Tim M.  
Category: Friendship  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: With Ziva and Chad undercover, jealousy overtakes Tony.

**-------------------- Green-Eyed Monster ---------------------**

"She's not gonna call, Tony. It's a deep cover assignment." From his desk, Tim peered at some complicated hard drive files he was trying to open. He blew on his coffee to cool it down.

Tony snapped his phone shut. Again. Glaring at McGee, he stood up suddenly, pushing his chair back dramatically.

"I KNOW what a deep cover assignment IS, Probie!!!" Tony barked, standing over Tim's desk. "ZIVA and I were undercover, REMEMBER? When we posed as those married assassins? And YOU only did a so-so job as Third Room Service Guy From The Left, McBellhop!" Tony crossed his arms, sniffing haughtily. "Me and Ziva, we had those FBI agents totally buyin' us as a smokin' hot couple." He smiled, remembering the night they'd spent 'pretending' to make love. "I knew I shoulda taken a video camera and filmed us. They'd have to shut YouTube down because of the..."

"Anything ever shut YOUR tube down, DiNozzo?" Gibbs said harshly, brushing past Tony on the way to his own desk. Tony flinched, grimacing at the unpleasant surprise.

"Heh... The young Probie and I were just discussing the importance of deep cover assignments, Boss. Because we haven't heard from Ziva in a while. McGee was worried," Tony made a face at Tim and danced back to his desk. Tim, flustered, frowned at the lie.

"That's not true, Boss! TONY's been checking his phone every two minutes to see if Ziva's called," Tim protested. "He even tried to get me to tap her cellphone. I was the one who told him..." Tony snarled at Tim.

"Hey! Zip your fat lip, McTattletale!" Tony snapped.

"I DON'T WANNA HEAR ANOTHER WORD OUTTA EITHER ONE OF YA UNLESS IT'S WORK-RELATED, YA GOT THAT?!!!" Gibbs yelled, slamming his hand down on his desk. The entire bullpen area went silent. Other agents hunkered down at their desks in fear.

Tony and Tim both started to answer but thought better of it and simply got down to work. Tony shot Tim a dirty look over his shoulder, which Tim returned.

Much later, in the break room, Tony grabbed a snack. He was chomping down on a chocolate bar angrily when Tim approached him.

"We-heh-hellll! If it isn't McSNITCH!" Tony snarked. "Hungry from a hard day's ratting out the colleagues?"

"I wasn't ratting you out, Tony!" Tim countered. "You lied to Gibbs about ME being the one who was going nuts over Ziva's assignment and that's been ALL you!" Tony growled at him.

"Okay... OKAY!" Tony pushed a chair out so Tim could sit down. Tim eyed it warily, then sat. Tony hunched over his chocolate bar, leaning to speak privately to McGee. "Thing is, it's not LIKE Ziva to be totally incommunicado -- not with ME, not even when she's on assignment. She always gets some kinda message to me somehow. She's not doin' it this time and I wanna know why." Tony stared hard at Tim. "Abby's been workin' with that NCIS bunch outta L.A. a lot lately. If she all of a sudden went out there and started workin' with that guy..." Tony paused. "What's their McGeek's name again? Derek?"

"Eric," Tim said bitterly, squinting.

"Yeah, Eric. If Abs started workin' with that Eric guy and never called YOU, what would you think, huh?" Tony leaned back in his chair, narrowing his gaze at McGee in an all-knowing manner.

"Well," McGee began calmly, "I'd think she was hard at work on whatever project she and Eric had been assigned to and..."

"AAAANNNNNNKKKK!" Tony made one of his patented 'game show' sounds. "WRONG, PROBA-LOSER! You'd think she was locked away in that L.A. lab gettin' all hot 'n' heavy with Mr. West Coast McWeenie, THAT'S what you'd think! C'MON!" He leaned threateningly close to Tim, raising an eyebrow at him. Tim looked at Tony as if he were crazy.

"But... I'm not... seeing Abby," Tim stammered. "She could date... whoever she wanted."

"Like Eric, eh, Probie?" Tony licked his teeth with his tongue. Tim turned red, embarrassed at Tony's insinuation that he might be jealous.

"Whoever she wanted," Tim reiterated. "And Ziva? Can do the same." Tony swallowed hard, stung by Tim's words. Tim stared at him for a moment before continuing softly, "She's just on assignment with Chad, Tony. There's nothing going on."

Tony checked his phone again. No calls. He snapped it shut.

"Nope," he replied, a tight smirk crossing his face. "Nothing going on at all."


	12. Compulsion

Title: Compulsion  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony's jealousy of Chad causes him to make a move that puts Ziva in danger.

**-------------------- Compulsion ---------------------**

_Call... CALL, dammit! _

Tony sat alone in the near-dark of the NCIS bullpen, his green eyes fixed on the clock on nearest his desk. Watching the secondhand scroll around as the minutes ticked off, he grew more impatient with every revolution. Ziva, still on secret assignment with Agent Chad Dunham, hadn't contacted him in nearly a week.

Jealousy consumed Tony. He was growing obsessed with the idea that Ziva and Chad weren't merely working as partners on a case. _She and I got closer than "just partners,"_ Tony told himself. _Maybe she's ready to break in a new guy.  
_  
Tony snarled, looking at his cellphone again. No calls from Ziva or anyone else. Furious, he hurled it across the room. It slammed against the wall, caroming off onto the floor. Unable to stand the waiting any longer, he made his way to Gibbs' desk.

Sitting down, he turned on his boss' computer. If Gibbs caught him or ever found out what he was doing, his NCIS career was probably over. But he had to know.

Tony knew he'd have three shots max at getting the login/password combination right before the system would flag it as being in error and lock him out. Then Gibbs would surely know someone had been at his desk and Tony was sure he'd be tops on that radar of Gibbs'. He always was.

The NCIS logins were the same: last name/first initial/middle initial.

Tapping away at the keyboard, Tony entered "gibbslj." No secret there.

Now for the password. The agents had been warned against using anything too familiar. Create a password using a sequence of numbers and letters in a random order, they'd all been told. No old address numbers or pets' names -- nothing of a personal nature.

Tony's stomach ached. He hated what he was about to do. It had to be done, though. He thought for a moment about what Gibbs would choose for a password. Tim would've figured this out immediately, no thought necessary. But Tony, always having to go with his gut, needed a second to get in Gibbs' mind. As much as anyone could.

The first two obvious passes, "shannon" and "kelly," didn't work. Tony doubted they would. Even Gibbs wouldn't be that transparent. Or bold. One chance left before being locked out and exposed the next morning.

Exhaling when he heard the hard drive start churning and Gibbs' desktop applications appeared, Tony said a combination silent prayer of thanks / promise to atone for his sins when his third guess, "mygirls," worked.

It took a couple of hours but once Tony found the file detailing Ziva's mission with Chad, he swallowed hard, took a deep breath and steeled himself for his next move. He closed out all Gibbs' files, logged out and shut down the machine. Then he headed for the elevator.

* * *

Sitting in his vintage '66 Mustang, Tony could see his breath in the frigid night air. His eyes were fixed on the constant amber glow coming from a small window in a nearby apartment building. He couldn't pick up any movement within the window, which bothered him.

_What are they doing in there?_ Tony wondered. Shivering, he pulled his woolen peacoat closer to his body but it didn't warm him any.

He'd been watching the apartment for over an hour, trying to decide what his next move should be.

Tony checked his watch: 3:17 a.m.

He exited the car, taking care to close the door as quietly as possible.

* * *

Standing down the hallway from the apartment where Ziva and Chad were holed up on assignment, Tony tried to figure how he'd make contact with them without blowing their cover. He couldn't just knock on the door. Calling Ziva hadn't worked; she wasn't answering her cellphone.

_Shoulda thought this through a little better,_ Tony told himself, sighing. He took a seat on the stairway. _What am I doing? What the hell is wrong with me? I'm jealous of her? C'mon, DiNozzo... She wants Chad? Fine. It's not worth my career... freezing my ass off at three in the morning...  
_  
Just then, Tony heard footsteps coming up the stairs from below. He stood and carefully, quietly made his way to a hallway corner out of sight. He watched as two men emerged from the stairwell. They headed for Ziva and Chad's cover apartment. Tony swallowed hard. What if Ziva and Chad were asleep? What if they weren't prepared or expecting these men? Tony drew his gun, readying himself to take aim and fire if necessary.

The men knocked at the door. Tony felt cold sweat break out all over his body. After a minute, the door slowly opened. The men entered the apartment. The door closed. Tony, his breathing shallow and his muscles tense, moved along the long wall towards the apartment door. Finally, positioned just outside the door, he leaned against the thick wood, hoping to overhear whatever was taking place inside. He heard nothing.

Still in position with his gun at the ready, Tony stood pressed against the wall.

_Now what?_ he thought, mulling his next move. He didn't want to move too far away in case Ziva needed him as backup. A horrible thought came into his head: What if Chad wasn't there and Ziva was alone in the apartment? What if she'd thought Chad was the one who'd been knocking at the door and had been surprised? But he hadn't heard any commotion. _Ziva wouldn't just open the door like that,_ Tony told himself. _Unless she'd been told to. But even then..._

Lost in his thoughts, Tony didn't immediately hear the door open or notice the two men exit. He didn't see Chad and Ziva escort them out. And he didn't see the man nearest him take sudden notice of his presence and go for his own gun.

In fact, it all happened so fast that by the time Tony did realize what was going on, he could honestly say he never heard Ziva scream his name, push him down and shield his body with hers as she fired at the man who'd drawn his gun on Tony. He didn't see Chad cut down the other would-be gunman, either.

And that's what he told Gibbs in the interrogation room back at NCIS later during questioning.


	13. The Thing To Do

Title: The Thing To Do  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony learns his fate with NCIS after his actions during Ziva and Chad's assignment.

**-------------------- The Thing To Do ---------------------**

_"Leave it here. All of it."_

_That's all Gibbs said when Tony stood to exit the interrogation room after hours of questioning._

_And so Tony did as he was told._

_His NCIS identification card, his gold NCIS badge, his service-issue weapon._

_Tony left them all on the interrogation room table._

_Gibbs wouldn't look at him._

* * *

Tony lay on his sofa, staring at the ceiling. Although exhausted from having been awake for the past 24 hours, he couldn't sleep. His adrenalin was pumping.

He'd been temporarily suspended from NCIS pending further investigation of his actions the night before. Two informants that Ziva and Chad Denham had worked to make contact with, gaining trust, were now dead because they'd seen Tony, his weapon drawn, outside the apartment Ziva and Chad were using as cover. The men had gone for their guns to take Tony down -- only Ziva and Chad had killed them first, saving Tony's life and botching the delicate assignment in the process.

_This is on me,_ Tony thought. _Two men dead. Ziva and Chad could've died. I should've died. My career's dead for sure._  
_  
Nice work, DiNozzo._

* * *

There wasn't even a knock, just the bang of the wood slamming against the inside wall as Ziva threw open the door to Tony's apartment. Furious, she forced herself to stay calm as she approached Tony, who lay on the couch.

"Why?" Ziva's voice trembled.

"Couldn't stop myself," Tony answered softly. His green eyes remained fixed on the ceiling.

_"WHY?"_ She tried to keep from yelling but was finding it difficult.

"Jealousy... Stupidity..." Tony's voice was now barely a whisper. "I was jealous. Of you and Chad."

Ziva slumped down onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. She shook her head slowly, hardly able to believe what she was hearing.

"Tony... Oh, Tony..." Ziva's voice broke with emotion. She started to say something but found that she couldn't get out the words.

"I'm sorry, Ziva," Tony said, swallowing hard. "I am so, SO sorry."

Ziva took a few minutes to gather herself before she again addressed Tony.

"Gibbs says you are temporarily suspended. Your reinstatement is pending investigation." She sighed. "What will you do?"

"Wait," Tony replied. "I'll wait."

Ziva took a deep breath. She placed her hand on Tony's thigh.

"No," she corrected. "_We_... will wait."


	14. The AllSeeing Eye

Title: The All-Seeing Eye  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony and Ziva get the final word on whether he'll be reinstated at NCIS.

**-------------------- The All-Seeing Eye ---------------------**

The Director's office had always given Tony a fit of nerves. He'd never liked being summoned there -- not when he was first hired at NCIS and ever since Jenny's term as director he'd gotten even more uncomfortable in the place. His top secret undercover assignment, under Jenny, to date Jeanne Benoit as a way of helping Jenny gain information on Jeanne's father, the notorious arms dealer Rene "La Grenouille" Benoit, had given him carte blanche to come and go in the Director's office as he pleased.

But the prestige of being Jenny's chosen operative had come with a price: He'd gotten in too deep with Jeanne, found himself forced to become her lover even though he was beginning to realize his true romantic feelings for his partner, Ziva David. Tony was torn between helping Jenny, which meant keeping up the charade of being Jeanne's boyfriend, or letting Ziva know how he really felt about her.

And now, here he was, sitting in the same chair he'd spent so many hours in discussing the La Grenouille operation -- and the "progress" of his relationship with Jeanne -- with Jenny.

Tony's stomach muscles tightened. His head throbbed. He breathed hard, sweating. He hated the Director's office now. It held awful memories for him, the memories of the worst year of his life. And now this might be the place where he learned that his NCIS career was over.

Behind him, he heard the door open. Director Vance and Gibbs entered. Vance took the seat behind the desk. Tony thought of Jenny now, comparing how Vance looked in the director's chair to how Jenny had filled the seat. Even at his lowest moments and even if she was furious at him, Jenny made Tony feel warm and welcome in her presence. Vance left him cold.

Tony glanced over at Gibbs, whose ice-blue eyes were fixed on him. Despite his mentor's glare and obvious disappointment in the turn of events Tony's life had taken recently, Tony felt hopeful. Gibbs flashed Tony the slightest hint of a grin and Tony knew that somehow everything would be okay.

* * *

Ziva sat at her desk, anxiously awaiting the verdict on Tony's NCIS future. McGee, at his own desk, pretended to work but at last gave up, joining Ziva in her nervous vigil. Abby paced back and forth in the Bullpen area, saying "Okay... they CAN'T fire Tony! Because... because... we're already short-staffed and he's got way too much experience and it's not like they're just gonna go out and find someone who knows as much about how NCIS works as Tony does, right? And Gibbs! Who's Gibbs gonna slap in the back of the head if Tony's gone? Huh? Huh?" McGee gulped, his eyes widening at the thought that he'd be next in line for Gibbs-slapping. McGee's phone rang. "No, Ducky, nothing yet," he said before gently hanging up.

After what seemed like an eternity to the trio in the Bullpen, Vance, Gibbs and Tony exited the Director's office. Gibbs and Tony made their way downstairs, saying nothing. Gibbs glared at Ziva, McGee and Abby. Tony sat at his desk, opening some drawers. Ziva, McGee and Abby looked worried. Was Tony clearing out his desk?

Gibbs sat at his desk, pulling up files on his computer. Abby marched over to him.

"Let's have it!" Abby crossed her arms, frowning at Gibbs. He shot her a furious stare.

"You finish those ballistics tests I asked you for, Abs?" Gibbs turned back to his monitor.

"Details. Now." Abby wasn't budging. Gibbs sat back, staring her down. He sighed.

Getting up from his desk, Gibbs strode over to Tony's desk, smacked Tony on the back of the head and made his way back to his own desk. Settling back in, he tapped away at his keyboard and barked "And dont'cha EVER hack into my computer again, ya GOT that, DiNozzo?!!!"

Abby ran behind Gibbs' desk, grabbed him and kissed him on the cheek. He frowned, grunted and went back to work. She then ran to Tony's desk, grabbed him, kissed him on the cheek and squeaked. Then she ran off to the elevator, hit the "down" button and made her exit.

"HEY! Where's MY kiss?!!!" McGee griped, watching Abby leave.

* * *

That night, there was a knock at Tony's apartment door. He knew who it was before he answered.

"Ziva," he said, smiling as he opened the door, "Hey! C'mon in."

"I cannot stay," she replied. Tony's expression turned gloomy. "I just came by to tell you that I am glad you were reinstated."

"Uh... thanks. Why can't you come on in for a minute? Celebrate with me?" Tony smiled weakly. He, like Ziva, was clearly uncomfortable.

"No," Ziva said quietly. "I will see you tomorrow. At the office." She pressed her hand on his forearm kindly and turned to walk away.

"Ziva, wait -- what is this? You were waiting it out with me before and now we're just gonna see each other at the office?" Tony's green eyes searched her face. "What's going on?"

Ziva's dark brown eyes were pained.

"Tony, you did not trust me. You thought there was something going on between Chad and myself -- you thought I was getting involved with him... in the same way I have been involved with you." She swallowed hard. "How do you think that makes me feel? To know that after all this time, after all we have been through together, after we have become lovers... that you still do not trust me completely?" Ziva studied his face. "I trust you, Tony. I still trust you with my life -- even though you nearly got Chad, yourself and me killed. I still trust you."

Tony swallowed, his throat so tight he could barely speak.

"You're right," he whispered. "I was jealous. And I screwed everything up. For everyone." Tony looked down, fighting back hot tears. "Don't you think..." He fought to control his voice, still a whisper. "Don't you think I know that I almost got you killed, Ziva? Dammit, that's all I've been able TO think about since that night! I just play it out in my mind, over and over again -- how you threw yourself on me and you coulda taken those bullets that shoulda been meant for me. That I got those two guys killed and wrecked your assignment. That I hacked Gibbs' computer because I had to find you. Believe me... I know I've burned all my bridges." Tony sighed. "I know I'm a failure. As an agent. As your lover."

Ziva reached up to stroke Tony's cheek, brushing back a tear.

"You are not a failure, Tony. Not in any way." She gently pulled him to her, planting a tender kiss on his lips. "Certainly not as my lover." Tony held her close, hugging her against him. He didn't want to let her go.

"Ziva, I love you," Tony whispered in Ziva's ear. "I love you. Please give me another chance. Please."

"I have never stopped loving you, Tony," she replied. "And I have never given up on you." Ziva nuzzled Tony's neck. "I will see you in the morning at work. Gibbs told me he has an assignment for us." She kissed him once more, this time deeply, before leaving.

Tony leaned back against the doorframe, watching Ziva disappear down the stairs. Closing his eyes, he ran his tongue along his lips, sighed and went back inside his apartment, softly shutting the door behind him.

* * *

"You're on probationary status, DiNozzo," Gibbs said gruffly, reviewing a folder in his lap. "Based on how you perform in this assignment, you could return to normal status. Or not."

"Excuse me, Gibbs," Ziva interjected cautiously, "I thought that Tony had been fully reinstated as an NCIS agent. Is that not correct? I am confused." Tony stared down at his shiny, well-polished dark brown shoes.

"He's back," Gibbs said, "but if he screws up this operation, Vance is gonna reassign him to the Records Division. Permanently."

"Filing. Sorting. Typing on an actual typewriter. Putting little colored tabs on folders. Collecting dust and cobwebs every hour as I wither away and die alone in that mausoleum from seven to five each day. No one ever comes down to the Records Division. Siberia is a Carnival Cruise by comparison," Tony muttered, his eyes fixed on a stack of files at Gibbs' desk. "Only the freaks, geeks and paper-pushers even know where Records is."

"I still go down to the Records Division every day," Gibbs said.

"Yeah, Boss," Tony whimpered, "I know." Ziva chuckled.

"What is our assignment, Gibbs?" Ziva asked, nodding at the file her boss continued studying.

"You two are gonna go undercover as husband and wife, gettin' jobs at the El Oro Casino in Las Vegas. Guy that owns it is a suspect in the murder of a former Marine who worked for him. Body was found out in the desert. Two shots to the head, execution-style." Gibbs pursed his lips, frowning.

"Any idea on motive, Boss?" Tony asked.

"The owner, Frankie Martino, has mob connections goin' back to his father, who was a made guy in the old Vegas mafia," Gibbs said.

"Which he of course denies," Ziva said.

"Ohhhh yeaaah," Gibbs replied. "Fornell says the FBI's been watchin' Martino on suspicion of money laundering. Haven't been able to establish that connection yet. But we've got a good shot at nailin' him for the Marine's death. That's your job."

"So who's workin' on the money laundering?" Tony asked.

"Sacks," Gibbs answered. "He's already there, working undercover as security. You get in town, you contact him first thing. Got it?"

"Yes," Ziva said. "We understand. When do we leave?"

"Grab your gear," Gibbs said, handing Tony and Ziva a pair of airline tickets. "Your hotel room, meals, all that -- it's already set up. Go. Good luck. I'll be keepin' track of you."

"_Slacks_," Tony hissed as he and Ziva headed for the elevator.


	15. Anywhere I Hang My Hat

Title: Anywhere I Hang My Hat  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance; angst  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Ziva and Tony hit Vegas and settle into their new "digs."  
**  
-------------------- Anywhere I Hang My Hat ---------------------**

"Ahhhhh ha hah hah HAH yeaaaahhhh! VEGAS baby!"

The lights of The Strip, illuminating the darkening early evening desert sky, reflected off Tony's mirrored sunglasses as he relaxed behind the steering wheel of the brand new rental Mustang. A smug grin of total satisfaction crossed his face. Cruising Vegas in a hot sports car with a gorgeous woman at his side had been a dream of his since boyhood.

"The lights... The babes... The wanton greed and gambling... The babes..." Tony sighed, soaking it all in as he and Ziva slowly drove down through the heart of Las Vegas' most famed landmark. "It's the American Dream come true, Ziva -- the concept of Manifest Destiny brought to its full fruition, the pursuit of happiness realized to its utmost... Did I mention the greed and the babes?"

"I weep to think of what your Founding Fathers would say if they saw this glittering shrine to excess and irresponsibility rising from the desert," Ziva sniffed. She wasn't impressed with their glamorous surroundings.

"Well, I don't see you sheddin' any _tears_, Sweet Cheeks," Tony countered snippily. "And I got a feeling once Thomas Jefferson and James Madison cleaned up at the Caesars' baccarrat tables and ate their weight in King Crab legs at the buffet they'd bow to the brilliance of the Vegas Framers -- Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin."

"You are equating the greatest men in the history of America with the Cat Pack, Tony?" Ziva was incredulous, shocked by the suggestion.

"It's the _Rat_ Pack," Tony hissed, "and yes -- yes, I am." Tony glared over at Ziva. "_Cat_ _Pack_," he sneered. "For shame!" He removed his sunglasses and held up his hand. "Gimme that address for our hotel, my Puritan!"

Ziva simply stared back at Tony, whose hand hung in the air.

"Let me try that again," Tony said. "Oh, Ziva... Would you please tell me the location of our lodgings here in Sin City?"

"We have reservations at the High Roller Motel," Ziva replied. Tony frowned.

"_Motel?_ Sounds cheap. You sure that's right?" Tony knitted his brow. "Gibbs said our hotel was taken care of. Maybe I drove too far. I'm sure he meant that we were set up in one of the primo joints on the Strip. Check that address again? _Pretty please?_"

"Gibbs did say we had lodgings," Ziva said. "And here is our new home." Ziva pointed to a seedy, run-down motel off the Strip. Tony turned pale, looking horrified at the High Roller as he pulled into the parking lot. Spindly weeds grew threw the cracks in the pavement.

"God, I hope there's an ice machine," Tony muttered, shutting off the car engine, "so I can numb myself to the frightening reality of this wanna-be Bates Motel." Just then, the High Roller's vintage '60s-era neon sign flickered on. Two glowing dice "tumbled" toward the street. "_Craps_ is right," Tony snarled, getting the suitcases out of the trunk.

"You are not impressed with the promise of slots and a two-dollar 24-ounce steak, Tony?" Ziva asked, surveying the motel's marquee. "That sounds like a deal which is right up your valley."

"_Alley_," Tony corrected, frowning. "And speaking of alleys, how great is it that the Bonanza Bowl-A-Rama's right across the street? Maybe in the off-hours I can work on my ball delivery technique." He grinned at Ziva, running his tongue along the bottom of his teeth. "And you could work on your seven-ten split, Sweet Cheeks. Oh, how I'd like to see your... seven-ten split." Ziva rolled her eyes.

After checking in, Tony and Ziva made their way to their room.

"Number 13," Tony groused, looking at the motel key and the numbers on the door of the room. "Figures." The "3" in the "13" swung precariously back and forth when Tony opened the door.

They entered the room and Ziva coughed at the smell of air freshener and smoke, fanning the air in front of her face with her hand. She barked something in Hebrew, clearly unhappy, and threw her suitcase onto the single king-size bed. Tony wrinkled his nose at their new "home."

"Shall we, my ninja?" Tony asked, gesturing to the bed. Ziva shot him a furious look.

"Shall we what, Tony?" she replied sharply, her tone signaling she was in no mood for jokes -- or anything else.

"Scream. Cry. Run for our lives. Anything but spend another minute in this Fourth Circle of Hell. I bet _Slacks_ is sleepin' on 500-count sheets at the Luxor right now. How I hate him." Tony snarled, studying the 1970s-era TV. A sign atop the TV said "No Cable." One of the TV's rabbit-ear antennas was broken off.

"Actually," Ziva said, eyeing the ancient rotary-dial telephone next to the bed, "Gibbs said we are to call Sacks upon arrival." She sat on the bed and flipped open her cellphone. Tony cautiously headed back to explore the bathroom. Suddenly, Tony screamed "SWEET GOD IN HEAVEN! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" from the bathroom area. Ziva whipped out the Glock she'd been hiding under her jacket, pointing it towards the bathroom. "TONY!" she yelled. "I AM COMING IN!"

Just then, Tony busted out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He yelled "AAAAAHHH! ZIVA! NO!" when he saw his partner aiming her Glock at him. She let out an angry "RRRRRGGGHH!" sound, lowering the gun, and gritted her teeth at Tony.

"WHY were you SCREAMING, Tony? I could have KILLED you just now!" She holstered her gun, flopping down onto the bed.

"Yeah, well, if it woulda saved me from spendin' the night in this fleabag flophouse, I wish your trigger finger woulda been as itchy as I bet we're gonna be if we have to sleep on those rags masquerading as bedsheets," Tony snarked, shivering as he moved away from the bathroom door. "You oughta see that _bathroom_, Ziva," Tony said. "Actually, no -- no you shouldn't. No human should." He wiped sweat from his brow. "We gotta get outta here. What'd Slacks say?"

"I left a message on his voicemail," Ziva said. "Gibbs said he is already working a cover job here so perhaps he is not at his hotel right now."

"Well, wave and say _'Hasta la Roach Motel,'_ Sweet Cheeks, 'cause I'm gonna go tell Large Marge out there at the reservations desk that she's got Lucky Room Thirteen back from Mr. and Mrs. Tony DiNardo. WE are gonna take our show up the road to one of the Strip hotels that doesn't consider D-Con an air freshener!" Tony sniffed the air once again, gagged and marched towards the door. "Better keep that Glock handy. I got a feeling the bedbugs here don't just bite, they pack _heat_."


	16. Luck Be A Lady

Title: Luck Be A Lady  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance; angst  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Things heat up for Tony and Ziva in Vegas.

**-------------------- Luck Be A Lady ---------------------**

"Hit me," the attractive woman said, studying the cards before her.

"C'mon... Do I look like the kind of man who'd raise his hand to a lady?" the blackjack dealer replied, winking.

"Yes," the woman purred, "but only if she asked and only if you were obliged to raise it to a certain place." She licked her lips and stared down the dealer. "Now. Hit me."

The dealer placed another card on the table.

"Twenty-one," he said. "Looks like you win again."

"I never lose," she said, getting ready to leave the table. "When do you get off...," the woman looked at the dealer's name tag, "... Tony?"

"I get off all the time," Tony said, grinning, "especially when I'm around a gorgeous woman."

"I'll bet," the woman answered. She wrote something on a scrap of paper at the table. "Here's my room number. I'll be there all night." Turning to walk away, she added, "I'm looking forward to seeing you when you get off later... Tony." Tony sighed, watching her head out of the casino.

_I'll bet,_ Tony thought. He smiled, rolled his eyes, tossed the scrap of paper in the trash, shrugged and got back to his work.

After dealing blackjack to some schlubs for a few hours, Tony finally was able to end his shift at the table. He headed to where Ziva was working her undercover job as a singer at the casino's lounge for high rollers. Taking a seat at the bar, he watched as she crooned a couple of sultry torch songs in a tight dark blue dress. The bartender handed Tony a drink; he absentmindedly sipped it, his green eyes fixed on Ziva as she worked the stage -- and the mostly male crowd.

"She's really something, huh?" The bartender, polishing glasses, elbowed Tony. He, too, was enjoying Ziva's show. "Bet she looks as hot outta that dress as she does in it."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Tony replied, angered at the remark.

"Hell, _yeah_, I would," the bartender said.

"Well, forget it, buddy," Tony said, "cause it ain't gonna happen." He took another sip of his drink, doing a slow burn.

"Oh? Why's that?" The bartender now took a defensive tone. "You got something going with her?" He snickered at the thought.

"Matter of fact, I do," Tony answered, downing his drink. He suddenly turned towards the bar, grabbing the bartender by his tie, nearly choking the man in his strong grip. "She's my _wife_, you son of a bitch!" The bartender gagged and coughed, putting his hands up. Finally, Tony let him go.

Later that night, when Tony and Ziva returned to their hotel room, Ziva noticed Tony was in a touchy mood.

"You have not said much," she noted, locking the door as they entered the room. "Did you not have a good night at work, Tony?"

"Terrible night," Tony said. "House lost every blackjack game I dealt."

"Perhaps you will have better luck tomorrow night," Ziva said, taking off her high heels.

"Oh, I had _great_ luck," Tony replied. "A gorgeous casino chick gave me her room number. Told me to come on up and see her tonight. When I got off." He waited, watching for Ziva's reaction. She headed for the bathroom to remove her makeup.

"Are you going?" Ziva called as she turned on the water and began gently wiping her face. Tony now stood in the doorway, studying her.

"Dunno," Tony said. "See, I just about got into a fight with the bartender in that club where you sing. He said he'd like to see how hot you look outta that dress 'cause he thinks you're pretty scorching in it."

"And for that you fought with him?" Ziva asked as she finished wiping off her face. "Because he thinks I am attractive?"

"_Almost_ fought with him," Tony corrected. "Because I don't want him thinking you're attractive. Or thinking about you. At all." He began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Shouldn't you be _leaving_, Tony? You will be late to see your casino chick," Ziva replied coldly, starting to push past Tony on her way back to the bedroom. He grabbed her, pulling Ziva to him.

"Not interested," Tony said huskily. His lips met Ziva's in a fiercely passionate kiss. "Got all I can handle right here." Ziva clutched him to her, kissing him deeply as Tony shook off his shirt. She pushed him down onto the bed as his hand found the zipper on the back of her dress. "I want _you_, Ziva," Tony groaned. "I love _you_."

"Prove it, then," Ziva challenged, pressing against Tony as he unzipped her dress. "_Show_ me, Tony. _Love_ me." She felt for the belt buckle of his pants. "I love you, too."

And late the next morning, they were suitably exhausted when they got their first contact call from Sacks, who asked Tony why it took him so long to pick up the damn phone.


	17. Waking Up In Vegas

Title: Waking Up In Vegas  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Ziva and Tony meet with Sacks.

**-------------------- Waking Up In Vegas ---------------------**

"Wake up call, DiNozzo," Sacks said sharply on the other end of the line as Tony held his cellphone as far away from his ear as possible. Tony groaned, hearing his nemesis' voice so early in the morning after having enjoyed such a passionate night with Ziva. She lay sleeping by his side. "Where the hell are you and David? You were supposed to meet me for breakfast so we could work out the specs on this assignment, remember? About TWO HOURS AGO?!!!"

"Mmmm... Yeah, well..." Tony moaned, rubbing his eyes as he frowned. The sound of Sacks screaming at 9 a.m. wasn't his idea of how to greet the day. "We had a late night, _Slacks_. Worked until we were exhausted. Didn't even hear the alarm go off at seven." Tony rolled his eyes, knowing full well he'd never even thought of setting the alarm the previous night. Beside him, Ziva let out a huge snore. Tony grimaced at the horrible sound.

"Yeah, well," Sacks mimicked, "You and Ziva better not be late to meet me for coffee at noon, you understand me, DiNozzo? I'm not going to have YOUR tardiness affect MY performance review on this assignment! And another thing: DON'T keep calling me..."

Tony snapped his cellphone shut. Sacks immediately called back but Tony just put the cellphone into the drawer next to the bed, closed his eyes and let out a long, slow sigh.

_Slacks_, he thought bitterly.

Arriving at a nondescript coffee shop on The Strip a little after noon, Tony and Ziva were both famished -- and still tired from the night before. Sacks, checking his watch every two minutes or so, was waiting for them in a back booth near the large plate glass windows looking out onto the main drag. He was furious that the pair was, yet again, late.

"Hello, Ron," Ziva said softly as she and Tony, who was still wearing his mirrored sunglasses, arrived at Sacks' booth. Sacks narrowed his eyes at both of them.

"Late. Again." Sacks reclined in the booth, fuming as he folded his arms over his chest.

"No, no, _Slacks_," Tony said, grinning, "the pleasure's ALL ours." After Ziva slid into the booth, Tony sat beside her. He immediately grabbed for a menu. Sacks looked disgusted.

"Sunglasses indoors, DiNozzo?" Sacks asked, practically spitting forth the words. He let out a little "Hmmph" sound and a snort, shaking his head at the apparent fashion faux pas.

"The better to ignore your face with," Tony shot back, placing the tall menu on the table so he couldn't see Sacks and Sacks couldn't see him. Sacks snarled and started to say something but Ziva stopped him short.

"WHEN you two are finished acting like children," she said coldly, "perhaps we can discuss the assignment? You will both let me know when you have ended your little fight in the dirt spot." Both Sacks and Tony stared at her. Tony pulled down his shades, giving Ziva a strange look.

"_Sandbox_," Tony corrected. "Kids fight in sandboxes." Sacks raised an eyebrow, awaiting Ziva's response.

"Well," Ziva hissed, "wherever it is that the two of you are fighting right now, I suggest you end it." She paused, giving each man a stern stare. "Or I will." Both Sacks and Tony grimaced with fear.

"Truce?" Sacks asked Tony. Tony snapped his sunglasses shut, putting them in his shirt pocket. He narrowed his eyes at Sacks, frowning.

"Truce," Tony said bitterly.

Smiling primly, Ziva motioned for the waitress.

"I believe we are now ready to order," she said in a sprightly tone.

When lunch -- for everyone but Tony -- was finished, the trio once again went over their particular jobs on the case and how they would all stay in contact at the hotel and casino. As Ziva and Sacks discussed the specifics of sharing information regarding the reputed mob boss who owned the complex, Frankie Martino, Tony wolfed down his second piece of blueberry pie. Getting the waitress' attention once more, he ordered another huge slice. Sacks got the disgusted look on his face again.

"Are you STILL eating, DiNozzo? That's THREE pieces of pie. Leave some for the rest of Vegas." Sacks wrinkled his nose, taken aback by what he considered Tony's gluttony. Tony made a face like he'd just been alerted to something. He cupped his hand to his ear.

"Boss? BOSS?" Tony mock-questioned. Ziva rolled her eyes. "BOSS, is that you?" Tony issued one of his fakest laughs. "Ha hah HAH! Funniest thing, BOSS... SLACKS here is soundin' a lot like YOU! Ha HAH! Ahhhhh... Heh heh heh... It's SO funny, I forgot to LAUGH!" Tony and Sacks glared at each other across the table. The waitress returned, set the slice of pie before Tony and hurriedly exited. Ziva leaned in so both men could hear her.

"It has been far too long since I put my Mossad training into practice," she said threateningly.

"Wanna share?" Tony asked Sacks, holding out the little plate of pie.


	18. Not Ready To Make Nice

Title: Not Ready To Make Nice  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance; angst  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony gets distracted when he meets up unexpectedly with an old flame.

**-------------------- Not Ready To Make Nice ---------------------**

Tony's little display in the restaurant during their first meeting with Sacks had left Ziva somewhat cold towards him. He'd apologized -- to her -- for how he'd taken the sit-down far too lightly but she wasn't having any of it.

"YOU acted like a spoiled RAT!" Ziva had snapped earlier that afternoon as she slid into the slinky dress she'd be sporting on stage that night in the exclusive club for high rollers. "We are here to ASSIST Ron, IF you remember!"

"BRAT!" Tony shot back from across the room. Bare-chested, he raised each of his arms, giving each of his pits a quick sniff. Frowning, he applied more roll-on deodorant. "Whoever heard of a spoiled RAT?" He let out a snarky little laugh, sneering at his partner. "Y'know, your English is getting about as good as my Israeli. And it's 'Ron' now, huh?" Tony snarled, seething with anger. _"Ron,"_ he mocked. Ziva stomped towards him and Tony flinched, getting himself into 'ready' position in case she lunged for him.

"There IS no such language as 'Israeli!' The CORRECT term for what I, and the rest of those of us from Israel who are Jewish and CHOOSE to do so, SPEAK, is 'HEBREW'!" Ziva, having finished yelling at Tony for the time being, spun around haughtily. He frowned, upset at having been upbraided by her. "Now... WILL you please ZIP my dress?" It was less a request than a roundabout order and Tony hesitated for a moment, feeling as if he should refuse. But as his green eyes fell on Ziva's smooth, olive skin it was all he could do to keep from touching her and he slowly, deliberately slid the zipper up along the supple line of her back. When he finished, he ran his strong hands over her bare shoulder blades, massaging the muscles deeply as he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

"Do... I... get... a... thank... you?" Tony whispered breathily, his lips brushing Ziva's neck. She shivered at his touch, then collected herself.

"Later," she purred, "after my second show." Tony groaned, murmuring something about needing a quick 'thanks' now. Ziva allowed him to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her body back against his as he caressed her neck with his tongue. It soon became evident that Tony wanted her right then, no waiting. Gingerly breaking away from his embrace, Ziva left Tony standing shirtless and dumbfounded in the middle of their hotel room. With her trademark smirk and a sultry, over-the-shoulder wink she promised him "Later, my little furry mutt... Later." Then she made her exit from the room, the door closing shut with a small "click" behind her.

Tony sat down on the bed, gaping at the door. Then, with a mighty moan, he lay on his back, putting one hand behind his head while scratching at his chest hair with the other as he stared up at the ceiling. Glancing over at the alarm clock, he saw that he had 45 minutes before he started his shift in the casino.

_Just enough time_, he thought, closing his eyes against the throbbing ache in his groin.

All night long, Tony couldn't keep his gaze off the casino's huge clock. As the hours seemed to creep past, his desire for Ziva grew more and more intense. His thoughts were fixed on the sexy dress she'd been wearing -- and how sexy she'd look when she wasn't wearing it later on in their hotel room when they were finally alone again. Women flirted with Tony throughout the evening but he didn't notice. Ziva was the only woman he wanted. _I'm really in love with her,_ he thought, absentmindedly going through the motions during another game of 21. _I told her I loved her. She said it back. We're not just playin' around anymore. Maybe it's time we..._

"So... what happened?" A woman's voice cut through Tony's thoughts, jarring him back to reality. "Did you lie one time too often to the wrong person and... lose your little NCIS badge? Use another innocent woman for 'critical' information? Or sex?" Tony saw the face before him but couldn't believe his eyes. "Tell me, Tony -- how does a big time federal agent like you end up dealing cards in a Vegas casino? It must be quite a step down from destroying people's lives to promote your own career." The woman's voice mocked him; it dripped with sarcasm and bitterness. She despised him and he saw it in her pale blue eyes.

Tony wasn't sure what to say. He'd come up with scripts for this moment many times in his head -- grandiose, dramatic monologues in which he apologized profusely (again) for everything that he'd been forced to do to her, how he'd had to use her in an investigation he'd wanted no part of to start with -- but all of those words he'd practiced over and over in his mind now deserted him. He simply stood before her, at once empty of feeling and yet filled with emotion. He'd prayed this moment would never come and now it had. There were no words, he realized, that could make things in any way right between them. He swallowed hard, his breathing shallow.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Tony stammered. His voice was a near-whisper, barely audible in the noisy casino. "Jeanne, I'm sorry."

Jeanne narrowed her eyes at her former lover. Tony began to sweat in his white tuxedo shirt and black vest. The look of utter contempt on Jeanne's face slowly morphed into a cruel sneer.

"Yes," she hissed, never taking her cold gaze off Tony. "You are sorry. You're one sad, sorry son of a bitch." Jeanne then took the drink she'd been holding, tossed it in Tony's face and, with one final furious look at him, strode out of the casino. Instead of watching her walk away, Tony simply closed his eyes, sighed and then looked down at his sopping wet dress shirt.

When Ziva finished her second show late that night, Tony wasn't waiting for her as had become his custom. She found him in their hotel room, lying on the bed in his ruined dress shirt, staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head, deep in thought. Slipping out of her stilettos, she lay next to him on the bed.

"You would like a dollar for what you are thinking?" she asked solemnly, resting her head on his chest. Sniffing at the fabric of his shirt, she smelled the liquor that had stained it. _Vodka_, she thought. _If not for the grenadine, however, it might not be so terrible..._

"A penny for my thoughts, you mean," Tony said, his green eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Nothing I'm thinking's worth a buck. Or a penny. Might as well save your money, honey." He sighed, long and deep.

"I worried when you did not come for me after my second show," Ziva said softly. "I waited for you, Tony."

"Sorry," Tony sighed, brushing his lips against Ziva's forehead. "I'm sorry." He closed his eyes, not wanting to hear the words he was about to say to Ziva come from his mouth. "Jeanne's here. I saw her in the casino. Tonight. She stopped by my table." Ziva rose, propping herself on one arm to stare down at Tony.

"Jeanne?" Ziva asked. "But... WHY would she be... HERE?" Ziva tried to process this information, which frankly disturbed her. "What did she say to you?"

Tony's eyes continued to study the ceiling.

"Asked me why I was dealing cards in this place. Thinks I must've got the boot from NCIS." He took a long, deep breath inward. "Says I'm a real S.O.B." Pausing, Tony allowed a small grin to play at his lips. "She's not wrong."

Now Ziva was angry, along with feeling jealous. She'd never liked or trusted Jeanne when Tony was seeing her. Ziva had felt that Jeanne manipulated Tony during their "relationship" and for her part, Ziva never fully bought into Jeanne's "hurt" act when Tony revealed to her who he really was. Yes, Ziva was jealous; but Jeanne was crafty. Ziva resented her having ever been part of Tony's life. Even more, she hated that there was no way to change that part of his past.

"You did not TELL her the truth about why you are here, did you?" Ziva, getting no reply from Tony, snapped, "DID you?" Then, stunned, she continued, "You are letting her manipulate you again?" Ziva couldn't keep her disdain for Jeanne out of her voice. "When will it end, Tony?" Tony sat up now, giving Ziva a long, studious look. Her dark brown eyes flickered with anger.

"No, I didn't tell her why I'm here. And Ziva, it has ended," Tony said, choosing his words carefully. "I'm over Jeanne. I told you that. It's just that I tried to tell her that I really am sorry for how I had to use her to get the information about her father but she..."

"She will not understand. Or listen." Ziva pulled back from where Tony sat. "And you expected things to somehow turn out differently? That she would now, after all this time, suddenly just forgive you?" Her expression flat, Ziva searched Tony's face as he glumly tried to come up with an answer.

"I don't... I don't know what I expected," Tony said quietly. He now fixed his eyes on the patterned bedspread. Ziva, her eyes starting to brim with tears, forced herself to keep control of her emotions.

"Well," Ziva said, feeling a quiver in her voice that she knew she couldn't hold back for long, "you will let me know when you sort out your feelings." Hearing this, Tony quickly snapped his head up to look at her. He reached out to grab her hand but she shook him off, brushing back hot, angry tears. "And since one of us should focus on the actual job we were sent here to complete," Ziva continued, struggling to regain some strength in her voice, "I will take the opportunity to meet with Ron. Perhaps he has learned more about our target." She moved off the bed, slipping on some flats, as she made her way to the door. Tony, dumbstruck at the turn of events, suddenly pushed himself from the bed and, beating Ziva to the hotel room door, blocked her from leaving.

"Don't do this," Tony warned, his face a mask of pain. "Don't leave me, Ziva. I need you. Don't run off to Sacks right now." He searched Ziva's dark brown eyes. "Stay with me," Tony whispered, bringing his lips to Ziva's. "Ziva, stay. Please just stay." The sensation of Tony's lips against hers sent a rush throughout Ziva's entire body. She wanted to pull him to her, cling to him, hold him against her all night long, do whatever it took to comfort Tony, to prove to him that she was the woman he needed in his life - that she would love him always. His nose gently touched hers; Tony's tongue probed for Ziva's, softly and tentatively. She felt him now against her thigh. His breathing was harsh and shallow as his hands encircled her slim waist.

Pulling away, she said coldly and firmly, "Ron is waiting." Ziva pushed past Tony on her way out of the hotel room, slamming the door behind her. Once outside, she heard the lock click from inside and she allowed a stream of tears to spill down her olive cheeks.


	19. DoubleDown

Title: Double-Down  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Angry with Ziva, Tony drowns his sorrows and becomes easy prey.

**-------------------- Double-Down ---------------------**

_"Quarter to tree..."_ Tony warbled to himself as he peered drunkenly through the shot glass he held before his eye as if it were a monocle. _"Nobody in the plash but meee..."_ Plunking down the empty little cube, he picked up a full one beside it and downed its contents in a one gulp. _"Sho shet 'em up, Joe..."_ Tony frowned and stopped singing his little song. "HEY!" he yelled to the bartender polishing glasses at the other end of the bar. "Your name 'Joe'?" The bartender rolled his eyes and continued with his work. Tony shrugged, made a "Well, excuse me" face and, picking up the newly-empty shot glass, looked through it as he had the other one.

Now, however, he spun around from the bar on his stool and surveyed the empty club room through the distorted view of the thick-bottomed little cube.

"I shee England... I shee Fransh," he slurred, barely able to balance himself on the barstool. A woman's trim figure, wholly out of focus thanks to the glass, came somewhat into sight. "I shee my ex-girlfriend who shaid I'm a shun of a bitch and shrew a drink down my pantsh!" He took the little shot glass away from his face so he could grin drunkenly at Jeanne. "Or... no, wait. On my slurt. Shirt." Tony tugged at the stained white dress shirt he still wore, which was now open at the chest. "Haaah!" He smiled broadly, throwing his head back to snicker. "It was THISH slurt." He closed his eyes and, acting as if he were thinking hard about the subject, corrected himself. "SHIRT!" Pleased with his progress, Tony swung back around on his stool and plonked his head down on the bar.

"Nice, Tony," Jeanne sniffed, taking a seat beside him. "I see you still haven't lost any of your sense of class." The bartender sauntered up, laid a napkin before Jeanne and took her order -- a club soda with lime.

"NO, I have NOT," Tony said thickly, his head still sideways on the bar, "losht my ... my spesh... spesh..." He frowned, sticking out his lower lip. "I'm shtill the shame ol' me." Jeanne snickered cruelly.

"And who exactly IS that?" She forced a bitter smile as she studied Tony's drunken face. "Are you Tony DiNardo, film professor who seduces women and tells them he loves them and wants to build a life with them?" She paused, issuing a hard, cold little laugh. "Or Tony DiNozzo, the NCIS federal agent who lies about being Tony DiNardo the film professor? Because whenever I think about it, I honestly can't tell if I was sleeping with Tony the lying film professor or Tony the lying federal agent. But since Tony the lying film professor is one of Tony the lying federal agent's aliases I guess I was sleeping with him -- or, actually, getting screwed by him." Tony lifted his index finger into the air, pointing it straight up as he gave it a little wave back and forth.

"That lasht thing you shaid," he mumbled. "Hit the... the nail on the... on itsh head, Jsheanne. Tony DiNosho -- HE's the guy that shcrewed you over. The lying bashtard." Tony lifted his head off the bar and tried to drain whatever dregs were left in one of his shot glasses into his mouth but there was nothing. Sighing, he turned it over and once again put his head back down on the bar, this time laying it on his arm as he closed his eyes. "What a ... sum... sum of a... real JHERK!"

The bartender placed Jeanne's club soda in front of her and she stared into the clean, clear liquid. Then she glanced back at her former lover.

"How much have you had to drink tonight, Tony?" she asked, mildly disgusted at how Tony was acting.

"Not NEARLY ... s'much ash I OUGHTA be drinkin'," Tony replied thickly. He drunkenly waved the bartender back over and the bartender, yet again, ignored him.

"Well," Jeanne said, taking a sip of her drink as her eyes moved over Tony's body, "you're too drunk to be alone tonight. You've made sure of that, Tony." She hated him now -- for everything he'd done to her. But she still wanted to possess him in some way. She hadn't expected to see him again but now that their paths had crossed, she wondered if this wasn't a way for her to bring him back into her life. When he hadn't responded to her note -- _"I'm not coming back. You need to choose."_ -- she'd been furious, knowing that he'd chosen his NCIS career and fellow agents over her. She'd expected him to leave them behind. He hadn't. And when she'd been brought back to face him with regard to the allegations she'd made that Tony had murdered her father, she'd hoped he would once again come to his senses and realize that she was all he really wanted. Seeing his partner, Ziva, however, had caused Jeanne to understand why Tony wouldn't leave NCIS. He wouldn't leave Ziva.

She could see it in their easy repertoire, how they teased one another and were close -- intimate, actually -- without having to even try. Tony and Ziva were in love. And Jeanne could never replace Ziva in Tony's heart. Any passion Jeanne felt for Tony turned to bitter, black hatred when she'd seen how he looked at Ziva during her short time at the NCIS headquarters. Everything of Tony's -- his heart, mind, body and soul -- now belonged to his partner and Jeanne was only a memory of a period of his life that he wanted desperately to forget.

She'd gone to Gabon to forget him and had, for a while. But it was always there -- the hurt, bitterness, anger and rage at being unable to control Tony, keep him all to herself -- and it festered inside Jeanne like a cancer. She'd let it spread, certain that she would never again lay eyes on the man she'd allowed herself to become obsessed with. He was a world away. Let him have his exotic partner. It would never work; Tony couldn't commit to just one woman. Oh, she knew _that_ much about the liar was true.

Now, however, with Tony so close and fate seemingly having brought them together again, Jeanne considered her options. She could leave him there at the bar to sleep off his drunken bender, continue with the real reason for her trip to Las Vegas and once again exit his life, making a clean break of it. That would be the smart thing to do.

But later in her hotel room, as Jeanne unbuttoned Tony's shirt and ran her hands through his chest hair, reveling in the feel of his body as she had when they were lovers so long ago, she heard him moan deep in his throat from where he lay flat on her bed and she realized that while the decision she'd made down in the bar wasn't the sensible one, it would absolutely do the most damage.

Also, she'd at least enjoy herself in the process. And wasn't that why people came to Vegas? For fun?


	20. Tapped Out

Title: Tapped Out  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony could use a little luck.

**-------------------- Tapped Out ---------------------**

The woman's lips met Tony's in a heated embrace as she pressed her body against the bare skin of his chest and stomach. Although dizzy from his drunken revelry, Tony could feel the fabric of her dress, her tongue seeking his, hear her groan as her hands moved to unzip his trousers...

But something didn't feel right to him. His brain, soaked with alcohol, tried to process exactly what was keeping him from wanting to make love. _Ziva..._ he thought, confused at why his body wasn't responding to his lover's touch. _Ziva..._ With a great effort, Tony opened his eyes.

And then he realized it wasn't Ziva who was trying to seduce him.

"Mmmph!" Tony struggled under Jeanne's embrace, flailing as he worked to push her off of his body. "GEDD OFFA ME!" He was absolutely plastered but still was too strong for Jeanne to fight. Having ripped his mouth from hers, he slapped her hands now from his trouser zipper and heaved her away from him. She lay on the bed, glaring up at Tony as he groggily began to put his ruined dress shirt back on. Jeanne's eyes burned with hatred for him.

"How DARE you!" she hissed, pushing back her light brown hair. Tony, still trying to button his shirt, unsteadily stood a safe distance from Jeanne and the bed. Little by little, he worked to back towards the hotel room door.

"How... dare ME?" he shot back thickly, looking incredulously at Jeanne. "You..." he pointed an index finger somewhat in her direction, "It wash YOU who ... jusht tried to she... shedu... TRICK me into SHLEEPIN' with you!" Wobbling now, Tony backed up and found the door handle. Narrowing his green eyes at Jeanne, who still lay on the bed, he shot his ex-girfriend a snarky grin before saying rather haughtily, "But it did NOT... turn OUT ash you... ash you... PLANNED!" Then he fumbled with the door handle for a few seconds before sliding behind the door, disappearing from Jeanne's view, as he slammed the door for full effect. Tony was proud that he'd made his escape from Jeanne. Now he could find Ziva and work things out. If he could find Ziva. Or just walk straight. And why was it so dark in the hallway? Taking a few steps forward, Tony suddenly stumbled, tripping over something hard and cold, and fell against a wall. _The HELL?_ he thought, rubbing his head where he'd just conked it against something sticking out from the wall. His leg ached now from having hit whatever he'd fallen over.

Jeanne slowly got up from the bed, her light blue eyes flickering with rage that she could barely control, and walked to the door where Tony had made his exit. She deftly pressed a little button in the center of the handle, which made a tiny but distinct "click" sound. Grinning wickedly, she pushed back her hair from her face and, making her way to the hotel dresser, removed her sexiest lingerie. Slipping out of her evening dress, she slowly and deliberately fitted the bra and g-string panties onto her body. Then she lay back on the bed. The night wouldn't be such a disaster after all. She smiled, imagining how things would play out -- just as she wanted them to.

"HEY!" Tony's voice broke the silence, along with the sound of his fists banging on wood, and it was music to Jeanne's ears. "LEMME OUTTA HERE! JSHEANNE! JSHEANNE!!!" She closed her eyes, loving the knowledge that Tony was still with her for the rest of the night. He wasn't going anywhere, she'd see to that. "DAMMIT, JSHEANNE, OPEN THISH... THISH DOOR!"

_The hell with him,_ Jeanne thought, smiling cruelly. _Let the idiot stay locked in the bathroom._ Then, running her hands down her smooth thighs, she snickered. But what would Ziva think? The idea of Ziva finding she and Tony together gave Jeanne about as much pleasure as making love to Tony would have and she allowed herself to savor the moment as Tony screamed and pounded on the door from across the room.

"Ziva," Sacks said, opening the door to his hotel room. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Wearing only a tight pair of boxer briefs, Ron suddenly found himself working overtime to control his excitement at seeing Ziva in a sexy dress at his door. It was as if she'd delivered herself to him and, best of all, DiNozzo was nowhere in sight.

"I am not here on pleasure, Ron," Ziva answered coldly, making sure to focus her eyes on his face only, "We have business to handle. The matter of Frankie Martino. The case. That is why you, Tony and I were sent here, is it not?" Ron eyed Ziva suspiciously. She sounded almost robotic and definitely distant.

"Uhhh... yes?" Ron said. He flashed Ziva a sexy grin. "Tell you what -- why don't you come on in here and I'll throw on some clothes and... maybe we can get a, uh, cup of coffee downstairs or something?" Personally, Ron was hoping the odds were more in favor of "or something" than coffee. He had wanted Ziva since the first time he'd laid eyes on her but she was only interested in that damn DiNozzo. _What the hell did she see in the guy?_ he thought. _I've got it all OVER him._

"Thank you, but I will wait here," Ziva replied, turning to stand against the wall. She stared blankly at the hotel room door opposite Ron's. With a little look of displeasure, Ron muttered something about how he'd hurry and get dressed before closing the door to his room. Ziva's brown eyes studied the numbers on the door across the hall: 1313. Unlucky, indeed.


	21. Snake Eyes

Title: Snake Eyes  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Ziva's suspicions about Room 1313 grow.

**-------------------- Snake Eyes ---------------------**

The steady sound of pounding coming from inside Room 1313 caught Ziva's attention. _Some people must never get tired,_ Ziva thought to herself. _Tony would be impressed. _

Inside Jeanne's rather spacious bathroom, Tony tried to take stock of his options as the room drifted back and forth before his eyes. He steadied himself against the tiles of the far wall and tried as hard as he could to focus on the locked door. He'd have to break it down. Raising an eyebrow, he narrowed his green eyes and glared at the door. Gritting his teeth, Tony ran towards the door and, pushing his shoulder against it, screamed in agony when it didn't budge one inch. Moaning, Tony lay against the door. He felt as if he were dying now, the intense pain coursing through his shoulder only making his situation that much worse. _I'm never gonna get outta here,_ Tony thought. Outside, he heard Jeanne laughing at him. _God, Ziva, where are you?_ Tony thought, closing his eyes. _Help me. Please._

"You ready?" Ron's smooth voice didn't register with Ziva, whose interest in the loud thump she'd just heard coming from Room 1313 had all of her attention. "Ziva? Uhhh... Ziva?" Ziva squinted at the door of Room 1313. Something wasn't right in that room, she knew, and she wanted to find out what was going on. But Ron was in the way.

"Yes," Ziva replied, turning to face Ron. She forced herself to appear as nonchalant as possible. "I believe you mentioned coffee?" Ron looked slightly disappointed but smiled as they headed towards the elevator.

Lying on the bed, Jeanne listened for any sounds coming from the bathroom. Tony had stopped pounding and yelling and moaning shortly after trying to bust down the door and it had now been nearly a half-hour since Jeanne had heard anything from him. _Maybe he's passed out,_ Jeanne thought to herself. _Serves him right._ Then she had another thought, one that left her cold. Tony was drunk; what if he'd hit his head and was unconscious? She despised him, she wanted her revenge and she mostly wanted to ruin Tony's life with Ziva but she didn't need the hotel police to find Tony injured -- or worse -- in her room. It wasn't something she wanted to explain to the other doctors at the medical conference, especially her closest colleagues. She craved their respect; this would make her look terrible. Wrapping her silken robe around her, Jeanne tip-toed over to the bathroom door.

"Tony?" she asked, rapping softly on the locked door. Jeanne hesitated a moment before finally turning the door handle. She was honestly afraid of what she'd find in the bathroom. Taking a deep breath, she peered inside the door.

Shortly after they'd been seated in the downstairs coffee shop, Ziva had begun plotting how she'd get away from Sacks in order to check out the strange noises she'd heard coming from Room 1313. As Sacks blathered on about Martino and the case, proving that he'd accomplished little himself during his stay in Vegas, Ziva suddenly blurted out, "Ron... The invitation to have this conversation in your room? Does it still stand?" Sacks looked shocked; all his breath left him in one moment. "I believe we should have more... privacy," Ziva explained. Sacks nodded dumbly, too excited to speak. Without taking his eyes from Ziva's face, he laid a ten dollar bill on the table and followed Ziva out of the coffee shop. The waitress watched them leave, picked up the $10 and studied Ron's departing form.

"Swell tipper," she said. "Nice _ass_..."

Now it was Jeanne's turn to panic. As soon as she'd peeped inside the bathroom door, Tony had pushed it open and tackled her, hurling Jeanne to the floor. She gasped for air, the wind knocked out of her, and Tony glared down at her from above, his green eyes full of fury. The alcohol was wearing off and he was regaining control of his senses.

"So here's how it's gonna go... _JEANNE_," Tony hissed, pinning his ex down. She grimaced, unable to move as he held her shoulders fast against the floor. "YOU... are gonna stay the HELL AWAY from ME... and ZIVA! You GOT that? Huh? _HUH?!!!_" Tony gave Jeanne's shoulders a rough shake. She shook her head "yes," suddenly afraid of Tony. "And..." Tony continued furiously, "AND... JEANNE... _JEANNE?_ YOU are never EVER gonna lay your HANDS on me AGAIN!" He snarled at her, hatred evident in his eyes. "UNDERSTAND?!!!" Again, Jeanne nodded that she did. She'd never seen this side of Tony and it truly terrified her. She realized now that he, too, despised her as much as she did him. Tony grinned down at her now, mocking Jeanne. "GOOD! Good _GIRL..._" Breathlessly, he gave her shoulders one last hard push so she would feel some pain and stood. Looking down contemptuously, Tony shook his head at Jeanne. "You're _nothing_ to me." Then he sneered, let out a little snort and walked out of the room for real this time, slamming the door as he left. Lying on the floor, Jeanne turned over and sobbed, bitter that her chance for revenge, her perfect plan, wouldn't happen.

Staggering out into the hallway, Tony's only thought was to find Ziva as fast as he could. He would tell her everything that had happened to him that night -- no hedging, no lies. He loved her and he wanted her to know the truth. And he was worried, too, about Ziva. Yes, she'd said she was going to see Ron but what if she didn't make it? They were, after all, in Vegas on a case and while they'd maintained their cover pretty well, who was to say if Martino's associates hadn't figured out their ruse? Tony was desperate to find Ziva, make sure she was okay, make things right with her. He bolted down the long hallway, headed for the elevator.

And when he turned the corner, he ran smack into his lover, who was as startled to see him as he was to see her. Tony took Ziva into his arms wordlessly, clasping her in a tight embrace. Ziva smelled the liquor on Tony's breath. She knew there would be an explanation forthcoming.

Watching the scene from behind the pair, Sacks couldn't hide his disgust. He hated DiNozzo. He hated that Ziva loved the creep. Pushing past both of them, Sacks made his way to his hotel room and slammed the door, leaving Tony and Ziva alone by the elevator.

"Ziva..." Tony began, his voice still thick from the night of drinking.

"Let's go back to our room," Ziva said quietly. "We will talk there."

"Ziva, I _love_ you," Tony said huskily. It was all he could do not to pull her into a kiss right then and there.

"I love you, too, Tony," Ziva replied, touching his cheek tenderly. "I love you, too." Getting into the elevator after Ziva, Tony hit the button for their floor and the doors swiftly shut behind them.


	22. When To Fold 'Em

Title: When To Fold 'Em  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony and Ziva get stunning news.

**-------------------- When To Fold 'Em ---------------------**

"I believe you."

That was all Ziva had said when Tony told her about the events leading to spending the night locked in Jeanne's bathroom. He blinked a couple of times, almost unable to comprehend that Ziva wasn't angry or upset with him. He'd expected as much and figured that he deserved it. After all, getting drunk as he had was a stupid thing to do -- especially since he was getting a second chance to show that he wouldn't botch an assignment -- and being too plastered to realize that Jeanne was leading him back to her room was proof that Tony still didn't completely have his head back 100-percent in the game. He needed to get control of his emotions where Ziva -- and their partnership -- was concerned. And fast.

"You're not mad? Because I really screwed up this time. I know it." Tony's head pounded from all the alcohol. The inside of his mouth felt like cotton. "And I'm sorry," he added softly, really meaning it. "Dumbest thing I've done in a long time," Tony mumbled, sighing.

"Now _that_," Ziva said, pursing her lips, "I must agree with." She'd gone into the bathroom to remove her makeup after the long night. It was nearly dawn now and she, like Tony, was exhausted.

Tony slipped out of his clothes, relaxing on the bed in only a pair of grey boxer briefs. Closing his eyes, he felt sleep overtaking him.

Hours later, the feel of Ziva's hand shaking his shoulder woke Tony from his dreams. Blinking, he opened his eyes against the harsh daylight.

"Get dressed," Ziva said brusquely. "We are on a flight to D.C. in three hours."

"D.C.?" Tony repeated, his voice hoarse from drinking (and screaming) the night before. "But we're not done here with the case."

"Gibbs called. He wants us to return immediately." Ziva, already dressed, was hurriedly and efficiently packing her own suitcase. Knowing Tony's habits, she had his open as well and appeared ready to get started filling it. Tony sat up in bed, scratching his chest. He yawned, then sniffed.

"Damn the luck," Tony said, scowling. "Never did get to check out Wayne Newton's new show."

* * *

The next morning, Tony and Ziva met with Gibbs, offering up a breakdown of their short stay in Las Vegas.

"Well, Boss," Tony stammered, fiddling with his tie, "we made contact with Slacks..."

"And?" Gibbs asked, his ice blue eyes fixed on his young agent.

"... and Ron was, frankly, unable to provide us with much relevant information on Frankie Martino," Ziva noted.

_"And?"_ Gibbs pressed. Tony and Ziva shared a concerned look.

"... and Ziva's act was a smash in the High Rollers' club," Tony said, smiling weakly. "The manager asked her back for a month-long engagement this June." Seeing that Gibbs was anything but impressed by this, Tony nervously added, "No such luck for me, Boss. Doesn't look like I'll be dealing blackjack again anytime soon. The casino manager may be sending NCIS a bill for, uh, all the money that Tony DiNardo actually OWES the house because he lost so much..."

"IS THAT ALL YOU GOT, DiNOZZO?!!!" Gibbs yelled, snarling. He turned to Ziva. "WHAT ABOUT YOU? ANYTHING? NO?!!!" Tony and Ziva were too stunned to answer. At last, Ziva swallowed hard and readied her reply.

"Yes," she said quietly but firmly. "That IS all we have." She returned Gibbs' hard stare with a fierce dark glare of her own. Tony grimaced, afraid the pair would come to blows.

"Yeah, well," Gibbs replied, "that's all ya SHOULD have." Now Tony and Ziva were confused. They looked at each other, then at Gibbs, then at each other again. "Martino turned himself in to the Vegas police before ya ever got there," Gibbs explained. "Confessed everything. We got him dead to rights. He's goin' away for a long, long time." Tony and Ziva, stunned by this news, couldn't speak. Again, it was Ziva who first dared to challenge Gibbs.

"We were assigned to find information on a man who had already offered himself to the authorities?" Her brown eyes turned black; she worked hard to keep from losing her temper but it was to no avail. Standing, she slammed her hand down on the conference room table. Tony flinched but Gibbs didn't move. "YOU SENT US ON A WILD MOOSE CHASE FOR NO REASON!" Leaning down, she came face to face with Gibbs, who merely gave her a look that suggested he wasn't concerned with her show of anger or the trip he'd sent his agents on. Tony, trying to lighten the mood, grinned up at his partner.

"Goose," he corrected, chuckling nervously. "Wild GOOSE chase. Nobody gets sent on a wild moose chase and..." he paused, thinking, "... why would you go to Vegas to chase a moose? Do they HAVE moose in Vegas?" He frowned. "It's 'moose,' right? Not 'mooses'? 'Moose'?" Both Ziva and Gibbs glared at Tony. Ziva reached around and slapped him upside the back of the head. Startled, Tony quieted down. "Excuse ME for trying to help!" he said snippily, rubbing the back of his head. Ziva narrowed her eyes at Gibbs and stalked out of the room.

"Boss, why'd you send us on that... wild moose chase?" Tony asked once Ziva was safely out the door. "I don't get it."

"Sacks," Gibbs said, a little grin playing at his lips. "Fornell said he'd been loafing on the Martino case and he wanted him to get it in gear. No better way to do that than to have you and Ziva out there in Vegas standin' over his shoulder." Getting up to make his own exit, Gibbs winked at Tony. "Nice work, DiNozzo. Sacks is really in it with Fornell, though." Tony and Gibbs shared a little laugh.

_"Slacks,"_ Tony snickered, grinning.


	23. Plans

Title: Plans  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Ziva and Tony plan on... making plans.

**-------------------- Plans ---------------------**

"Do you have plans tonight, Tony?" Ziva asked the question nonchalantly, not bothering to look up as she tapped away at her computer.

"Do I have plans tonight?" Tony laughed. "HAH! Of _course_ I have plans!" He narrowed his eyes at his partner from his desk across the way. "_Big_ plans. _Important_ plans. _Secret_ plans." He waited for any sort of response from Ziva, who offered none. "Why are you so interested in my plans?" Tony's green eyes sparkled with mischief; a teasing grin played at his lips. Still no response from Ziva. Tony frowned, annoyed at her lack of interest. He hated it when she didn't play along. "What have you heard about my plans?" he asked, leaning forward as he cocked an ear in her direction. Ziva glanced up at him, rolling her eyes.

"You have no plans," Ziva said, smirking as she went back to her work. Tony snarled.

"I have plans," he hissed.

"Liar," Ziva taunted.

"Plans that have been planned for weeks," Tony shot back. "_Months._ Plans that _required_ planning." Ziva eyed him coolly. Getting up from her desk, she made her way to Tony's work area. Leaning over so that she came face to face with him, Ziva's lips were only inches from Tony's. He suddenly found it hard to breathe. She smiled, her lips parting ever so slightly as she started to speak.

"You. Have. No. Plans." Ziva's voice, a breathy whisper, sent a shock of intense arousal through Tony's body.

"I have no plans," Tony admitted in a pained little groan. He moved to kiss her, his lips brushing hers just as she pulled away, issuing a triumphant "HA!" while heading back to her own desk. Settling down into her chair, Ziva caressed her teeth with her tongue, raising a black eyebrow at Tony. He growled back at her.

After a few minutes of silently sulking, Tony rose from his chair and casually strolled over to Ziva's desk. Moving behind her, he leaned down to whisper into her ear.

"_You_ have no plans tonight, either, _Zee_-vah," Tony said, his breath hot against Ziva's neck. She loved the smell of his cologne.

"Not true," Ziva replied, continuing to type her report. Tony's eyes traveled down to her cleavage. Ziva noted this, giving him a sideways glance.

"And these plans of yours?" Tony asked. "What are they? Where are they? Who are they with?" He frowned, knowing his grammar wasn't right. "With whom are they? Whom with...?" Frustrated, he leaned in closer and said impatiently, "The plans! Tell me about the plans!"

"Why are you so interested in my plans?" Ziva teased, using Tony's line from earlier. He snarled, hating the sound of his own words being used against him.

"Because I'm usually the man with the plan and tonight I'm a man with no plan. I want a plan. I _need_ a plan." Tony knelt down, looking up pitifully at Ziva. "Let me live vicariously through _your_ plans."

"McGee has invited me to his book signing," Ziva said, shutting down her computer. "And then I am getting takeout for dinner at home." Tony raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.

"Chinese takeout? Garlic shrimp? General Tso's Chicken?" Tony smiled dreamily, thinking of the food. "Ah, the General. That ancient warrior understood the mystical ways of poultry, indeed..." Snapping to, Tony asked Ziva, "Could I have plans tonight, too? With you?" Ziva smiled primly.

"I would enjoy that," she replied, gathering her belongings as she prepared to leave the bullpen. Looking at Tony, she said firmly, "It is a date, then?"

"Plan on it," Tony answered with a grin, his green eyes twinkling.


	24. You Just Haven't Earned It Yet, Baby

Title: You Just Haven't Earned It Yet, Baby  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony wants something special from Ziva - her undivided attention.

**-------------------- You Just Haven't Earned It Yet, Baby ---------------------**

It bothered Tony, seeing Ziva and McGee exit the elevator together each morning, laughing and joking. The jealousy had been consuming him for weeks, although he worked overtime to keep it from showing.

_That's right,_ Tony thought bitterly to himself as the pair once again greeted the day with a snicker at some shared in-joke as they entered the bullpen, _laugh it up with your twin venti mocha grande lattes and your little HA HA HA HAs and your looks you sneak at each other all day long when you think I'm not watching. Because oh ho HO -- I'm ONTO your games, Zee-vah and... McINTERLOPER! I hope you spill that overpriced frappa-cappuccino all OVER that stupid new pleather jacket of yours, PROBIE! And as for YOU, my fickle little ninja two-timing..._

"Tony?" Ziva's voice brought Tony out of his reverie momentarily. She smiled. "_You_ are here early. I tried to call you when I was driving in but you did not answer. I was going to..."

"Been busy," Tony snapped sarcastically, finding occasion to fiddle with some random papers on his desk. "Got here by dawn's early light. Had to set MY alarm in time to wake up the neighborhood rooster so _he_ could do _his_ crowing." He deliberately turned away from Ziva, wanting her to know that, unlike her new best friend McGee, he didn't have idle time to chat.

"I see," she said softly. "Well, then, I will not keep you." She headed back towards her own desk.

"Yeah," Tony agreed, "maybe you won't." He paused, dramatically, adding in a sharp tone, "_Keep me._"

Settling in at her desk, Ziva simply sighed at Tony's last remark and then began tapping away at her keyboard.

* * *

"You are not taking my calls," Ziva said, frustration evident in her tone, as she cornered Tony in the NCIS men's room. He jumped, startled by her having once again snuck up on him, but tried to act nonchalant as he finished his business at the urinal.

"Oh, was that really _you_ calling?" Tony asked in a mock "innocent" voice. He snickered sarcastically. "I thought someone was pranking me, _pretending_ to be you, because I know that with your 'All McGee, All The Time' schedule you couldn't POSSIBLY have any time to pick up the phone and give ME a call!" Zipping his pants, Tony flushed before Ziva could respond. Pushing past her, his shoulder bumping her aside as he passed, he made a bee-line for the sinks and began washing his hands. Ziva followed fast on Tony's heels.

"THIS is why you are avoiding me? Because I am friends with McGEE?!!!" Ziva was incredulous, truly stunned at Tony's words. "TIM and I have been friends ever since I began WORKING here, Tony! He is YOUR friend, too!" Now she was furious. "WHY are you ANGRY because of our friendship? That makes NO sense!"

"You know what makes NO sense?" Tony yelled, hurling a paper towel towards the trash basket. "YOU waltzing in here EVERY morning with McGEE, laughing and being all cozy with your little coffees and jokes like you're SLEEPING with HIM!" The paper towel caromed off the wastebasket and landed on the floor.

Ziva gritted her teeth and slapped Tony hard across the face. He recoiled slightly, then grinned sarcastically. Rubbing his cheek where it was sore, he let out a harsh little laugh as he exited the men's room, leaving Ziva to swallow hard and choke back angry tears.

* * *

"You slapped me," Tony said, greeting Ziva once she opened her apartment door. "Hard."

"Why are you here?" Ziva asked, her voice tight.

"Because I'm sorry," Tony replied softly, "for being a jerk earlier."

"You should be," Ziva snapped. "Good night, Tony." She moved to close the door. Tony blocked her from doing so.

"I'm jealous of you and McGee," Tony admitted, unable to look at Ziva as he said the words. "The way you kid around with him... how you're always getting coffee with him... those little jokes you two have..." Tony let out a hard sigh. "I'm not part of any of it. It's just you and Tim. And I want in. But there's no room for me."

"You believe that three is crowded," Ziva stated. Tony gave her a wry look, noting the error but not feeling in the mood to tease.

"It's one too many for a couple," Tony said. "You do the math." He looked down again, really sad about being jealous of Ziva and Tim and, at the same time, feeling depressed about fighting over it. Tony wanted things to be right between he and Ziva. But the idea of Ziva being so close to Tim bothered him.

"Tim is my _friend_, Tony," Ziva replied quietly and intently. "I am _in love_ with you. Why is it so hard for you to understand that my friendship with another man -- _any_ man -- is completely different to me than my _relationship_ with you?" She reached out, touching the area of Tony's cheek that she'd slapped earlier that day. "_Yes_, I laugh and joke around with McGee. We go for coffee. _At work._ And when I leave the office, who do I spend my time with?" Tony, who'd been looking down, glanced sheepishly up at Ziva, blushing. "Tony, there is _always_ room for you in my life. You are part of everything I do."

"I know," Tony said in a near-whisper. "I'm a jealous guy. And I'm _sorry_. I was wrong. I'll try to be a better..." Tony stopped himself before he said the word 'boyfriend,' but then took a deep breath and started again. "I'll try to be a better man. Better for you, Ziva. Better _to_ you." He tentatively reached out, taking her hand in his. "I love you, too." Tony gave Ziva a pitiful look. "Forgive me?"

"No," Ziva teased, shaking her head. "It is too soon. I am still hurt. You were cruel today." Now she smirked at Tony, needling him for her own enjoyment. "Particularly harsh and cruel. I will need time to... _recover_ from the pain, Tony." Tony snarled playfully, narrowing his eyes at her.

"_Reeeeeally?_ Well, lemme tell you a little something about 'hurt,' Sweet Cheeks," Tony said, rubbing his jaw. "If anyone's still HURT, it's me -- 'cause that smackdown you laid on ME was harsh and cruel. Talk about needing time to recover from the pain..." He let out a little indignant snort, frowning. Ziva offered him a "sad" look.

"I suppose I overreacted to YOUR overreaction," Ziva teased. "Shall we kiss and make up?"

"Oh, I'm all for the kissing," Tony replied giddily as Ziva welcomed him into her apartment. "And especially for the... _making up._"

"You are usually for the making up and THEN the kissing," Ziva said, closing the door behind them.

"Fair enough, my ninja," Tony said. "And tonight I feel like making up with you... oh... say... _thrice?_"

"Thrice!" Ziva teased, chuckling. "That is quite ambitious."

"Well, considering the way I treated you earlier," Tony said, taking Ziva into his arms, "it's really the _least_ I can do."

"Apology accepted," Ziva replied, her lips meeting Tony's in a heated kiss.


	25. Tweet Like A Man

Title: Tweet Like A Man  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Real men don't Tweet. Right, Tony?  
**  
-------------------- Tweet Like A Man ---------------------**

"You have many followers," Ziva teased, sneaking up on Tony from behind. She purred the words breathily into his right ear. He frowned, cutting his green eyes over at her.

"I like to think I'm loved by one and all," Tony shot back, not missing a beat. "Always been a leader, Zee-vah. A pioneer. A vanguard of... vanguarding." Frowning suspiciously, he asked, "What're we talking about?" Ziva snickered.

"You are 'VERYSpecialAgentTony,' yes?" she prodded, her breath hot in Tony's ear. He quickly adjusted his tie, swallowing hard.

"Of _course_ I'm a very special agent," Tony snapped, staring straight ahead, his eyes big as saucers. Lowering his voice to a near-whisper, he asked, "Why? What've you heard?"

"I enjoy your... _tweeks_," Ziva purred, her nose barely brushing Tony's neck. He swallowed hard again, shivering at the feel of her skin on his, even for a second.

"Tweeks? What the hell are tweeks?" Tony barked, looking around the bullpen nervously. His voice was so low he could barely hear himself. "Who tweeks? What is a 'tweek'? Backsliding again I see, my ninja. So sad."

_"Got lucky in Vegas. Hit jackpot every single night. Never saw casino."_ Ziva's cheek pressed against Tony's, causing him to shift in his chair. "Does that sound familiar?"

"No... idea... what you're... talking... about," Tony gasped, trying to maintain some degree of control. He was feeling incredibly uncomfortable now.

_"Threw my back out last night. Too much heavy lifting. But she likes it on top."_ Ziva paused after repeating this sentence into Tony's ear. "Does THAT ring your bell?" Tony smiled and stuck out his tongue, snickering.

"Heh heh heh... Ohhh yeaaahhh... Got 129 new followers with that one and..." His grin turned to a grimace when Ziva suddenly Gibbs-slapped him upside the back of the head. Tony did a double-take, scowled and rubbed the back of his head. Ziva physically turned Tony around in his chair so that he would face her.

"YOU have been tweeking our... _private moments!_" she hissed, furious. "VERYSpecialAgentTony," Ziva scoffed. "HA! As if I would not be able to figure THAT one out!"

"You can't prove it's ME," Tony shot back. "PROVE it's me! PROVE it! Let's see the PROOF! You've got no _proof_." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, smirking smugly at Ziva.

"MA-Gee!" Ziva commanded. Tim emerged, sporting a giant grin and his trusty laptop. Tony looked horrified and began adjusting his tie.

"Well, Ziva, I've traced the IP address for 'VERYSpecialAgentTony' back to Tony's home computer, have records of all his logins and logouts to Tweeter and..." McGee hit a button on the laptop and a screen of personal information popped up on the big-screen plasma TV in the bullpen area. "... here's the personal information sign-up profile for -- well, whaddaya know? -- Anthony DiNozzo Jr. Of Washington D.C. Born July 1968 and..."

"LIES!" Tony shouted, standing up suddenly. He pointed accusingly at McGee, who only smiled that much more. "ALL LIES! VICIOUS... SLANDEROUS... LIES!" Tony bolted from behind his desk, pushing past Ziva to get to McGee. "GIMME THAT! GIMME IT!" Tony grabbed for the laptop computer and McGee desperately played "keepaway" with his machine, trying to save it from the furious DiNozzo. "YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS, McHACKER! McKNOW-IT-ALL! McTECHNO-TRAITOR!" Tim, now seriously afraid of Tony's blind rage, tossed the laptop to Ziva, who caught it and snapped it shut. Tony's personal information disappeared from the big-screen plasma TV, which went black and then back to its screensaver.

By now, Tony had chased Tim out of the bullpen and was stalking back towards Ziva, his face red and sweaty from all the commotion. Tim had escaped to the relative safety of Abby's lab where a strict "No Fighting Unless Gibbs-Approved" rule remained in effect.

"HAPPY, Zee-vah?" Tony panted, loosening his tie. "It was a nice day -- a _quiet_ day -- until you started in about... _tweeking!_ WHO TWEEKS? NOBODY TWEEKS! TWEETING, ZIVA! IT'S CALLED TWEETING! PEOPLE TWEET -- THEY DON'T TWEEK!" Realizing that his yelling had attracted the attention of the entire office, Tony lifted his chin haughtily, looked around at the staring agents, adjusted his tie and muttered "_Somebody_ had to say it!" before again taking his seat. Shooting Ziva one final threatening snarl, Tony angrily started hammering away at his keyboard.

Ziva raised an eyebrow, narrowing her brown eyes at him, before casually making her way over to his desk once more. She opened Tim's laptop and set it before Tony.

"Perhaps _this_... Tweeter site will interest you. _She_ is among your followers." When she returned to her own desk, Ziva started on her own work for the day, occasionally glancing up to gauge Tony's reaction to what was on the screen. He pretended to be completely uninterested but Ziva saw him sneaking peeks at the laptop's display. At length, Tony's green eyes, sparkling with mischief, met Ziva's gaze. He got up from his desk and made his way over to hers, leaning down over her left shoulder to speak directly into her ear.

"CrazyNinjaChick," Tony whispered huskily, "really doesn't hold anything _back_, does she?" Ziva smiled primly, continuing to study a file on her computer screen. _"American slang = crazy. Rode hard & put up wet? He sweats. A lot."_ Tony's breath was hot against Ziva's neck. "Somebody's been a _baaaaaaaaaad_ little _tweeker_."

"The sort of tweeker _VERYSpecialAgentTony_ would follow?" Ziva asked, shivering at Tony's touch.

"Oh, absolutely," Tony answered, planting a surreptitious little kiss on Ziva's neck. "On Tweeter and... anywhere _else_ she might happen to turn up."


	26. Incommunicado

Title: Incommunicado  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony spends a Friday night by himself.  
**  
-------------------- Incommunicado ---------------------**

From the window of his apartment, Tony had a clear view of the street front. Snow blanketed the sidewalks, cars and everything else, but despite the bitter cold couples were out and about, making their way to the nearby cafés, bars and neighborhood restaurants. The weather wasn't putting a damper on their evening plans.

Sighing as he watched a young man pull his girlfriend close and give her a long kiss after they exited the café across the street, Tony forlornly considered what he had planned for the evening.

Nothing.

It was a Friday night. And he was home alone with no one to talk to, nothing to do.

Flopping down on the couch in his dark, quiet apartment, Tony thought of Ziva and how desperately he wished she were with him. He wanted to call her, to surprise her by making his way through the snow to her place, to just hear her voice or feel her touch -- but it wouldn't happen. Not this night. Because Tony wouldn't be picking up the phone. He wouldn't go to Ziva's apartment. Instead, thinking that they'd been spending perhaps a little too much time together lately, he'd play it cool and keep his distance this weekend by staying out of reach, not calling Ziva or taking her calls, not seeing her until work on Monday morning.

This was how he kept from fully committing to her. It was his way of maintaining the image of the Tony DiNozzo who wasn't interested in true love or soulmates or marriage or children. Forced distance. Self-imposed solitude.

Tony turned over on the couch, misery and loneliness eating at him. He closed his eyes against the harshness of feeling so completely alone, so desperate to be wanted and told that he was loved, truly, by Ziva. _Why do I have to love her so damn much?_ Tony thought bitterly, swallowing hard. _I bet she's not even thinking about me most of the time._ And Ziva was always on his mind. Always. He woke up thinking of her and went to bed nights dreaming of her. _It's not fair,_ Tony thought, _when one person's more in love than the other person is._

He secretly hoped the phone would ring, that he'd pick up to hear Ziva's voice on the line, but knew it wouldn't happen. The odds were, she was hoping for the same thing from him on her end.

But there was a message that had to be silently sent.

And on this night, at least, Tony couldn't be the one to break first.


	27. The Bottle Makes Two

Title: The Bottle Makes Two  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Alcohol + Tony = Bad Combination.

**-------------------- The Bottle Makes Two ---------------------**

Amber liquid refracted the only light in Tony's apartment, a small silver desk lamp that had followed him from his college days from Ohio State to his police career in all its various stops.

During his time as a detective in Baltimore, a colleague once pranked Tony by hiding the battered little lamp for a week. Tony played it cool until, finally, the lamp was returned. Everyone, Tony included, laughed the whole incident off as just another squad room joke. Nobody ever knew that, once he took his lamp home for safekeeping after privately vowing that it would never again leave the confines of home, Tony spent a lonely Friday night carefully replastering and painting over the area in his apartment where he'd put his fist through the wall in frustration and panic earlier that week, believing he'd never see his special keepsake again.

Now, the lamp light shone on Tony as he lay his head on the desk in a futile effort to stop the dizzying spin a night's worth of whiskey had brought about. Eyes closed against the whirling room, Tony welcomed the lamp's gentle, comforting warmth on his cheek.

Tony forced his green eyes open, fumbling for the heavy whiskey bottle. Pouring -- and spilling -- a small tumbler's worth for himself, he replaced the bottle on the desk with a thump, groaning from the effort. Drinking this much had become exhausting in and of itself. But he wasn't as numb yet as he wanted to be and there was still half a bottle to go. As long as he could feel such incredible loneliness, not having seen or heard from Ziva since he'd brusquely told her "Well, see ya Monday" while hurriedly leaving work Friday night, Tony was determined to lift that bottle as many times as it took to make his pain go away.

Sunday morning would be here soon. Ziva apparently got the message. No calls. No texts. No visits. Just what Tony had wanted -- distance.

It took every remaining ounce of strength Tony had to lift his head and, in a little fit of all the rage he could muster, shove the whiskey bottle off the table with the back of his hand. Downing his tumbler of alcohol in one long gulp, he fell out of his chair and lay on the floor, moaning. His head ached; he'd hit it -- hard -- during the fall and the throbbing was immediately intense. A small stream of blood trickled from a cut on Tony's temple.

The soft yellow glow from the lamp cast Tony's shadow across the floor. Tony realized that he was cold; he couldn't feel the warmth of the lamp on his skin any longer. Shivering, he slipped into a heavy sleep.

Just before dawn, the lamp shut off with a firm "click." Tony groaned, barely hearing it. He later felt the sensation of being naked against the chill in his apartment but then came an intense, comforting heat. Warm skin against his. Thick blankets covering him. Tony opened his mouth to tell her he was sorry, hearing only a thick mumbling loudly, rudely cut through what had been silence. Lips softly quieted him -- a tender, familiar accent bidding him to sleep -- and he relaxed as she held him, knowing he wasn't alone now.

Soon only Tony's breath, heavy and steady, made any sound at all.


	28. Saturday Night, Sunday Morning

Title: Saturday Night, Sunday Morning  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Post-hangover, Tony hurts in more ways than one.

**-------------------- Saturday Night, Sunday Morning ---------------------**

"Sorry," Tony mumbled into his pillow, wanting to lift his head but unable to do so. "Really sorry. Acted... like a... jerk." He let out a heavy sigh, moaned pitifully and promised "Won't happen again."

"It will," Ziva replied groggily. She was still drowsy but more awake than Tony. "But I understand."

"Mmmhhh?" Tony frowned. It felt like a thousand jackhammers were pounding away at the inside of his skull all at once. But he tried to process what Ziva had just said.

"You will pull away again -- from me." Ziva said this matter-of-factly. "You get scared when you feel that we have become too close."

"Sorry," Tony whispered, feeling awful that she'd figured this out. It had to hurt her on some level and yet she was keeping calm about it. Outwardly, anyway. "Don't know... why I do it." Tony groaned, forcing himself to turn over and face Ziva. The effort was terribly painful. The little fall he'd taken from his desk chair onto the hardwood floor had left him sore. "Don't... mean to... treat you that way, Ziva. Don't want to." His green eyes were full of sadness and depression as they fixed on her face, so close now to his. "You know I love you." He caressed her cheek with an unsteady thumb. "I love you, Ziva," Tony repeated in a whisper, his voice breaking.

"I know that you do. I love you, too, Tony." Ziva reached up, taking Tony's hand in hers. "I know that you are afraid of letting me really love you. And I wish I knew how to change that. But I cannot."

For a few minutes, they lay quiet and still, just gazing into one another's eyes. Nothing more needed to be said. At last, it took all the remaining energy Tony had to tenderly pull Ziva to him and hold her, the feel of her skin against his reminding him that in reality his needs were simple and clear. And that his pain, no matter how intense, was always only temporary.


	29. Una Mas

Title: Una Mas  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony takes Ziva out for a _noche especial._

**-------------------- Una Mas ---------------------**

_"Mas salsa, mi chiquita?"_ Tony asked, loading up a tortilla chip with salsa. Offering it to Ziva, who primly grinned, winked and shook her head "no" politely, Tony shrugged and popped the tasty morsel into his mouth. With a loud crunch, he smiled and enjoyed his snack.

"Your tiny?" Ziva said, giving Tony a quizzical look. Tony nearly choked on his taco chip, hastily gulping down water as fast as he could take it in, hearing the two words.

"Ziva!" Tony admonished, leaning in close, whispering so no one would hear. "C'mon! You KNOW I'm not... TINY!" He glanced around the Mexican restaurant, silently praying no one near them had been listening in. Ziva rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Tony's sudden panicky reaction.

"No... 'Your tiny...'" Ziva attempted to explain. "That is what you just called me, Tony." Tony frowned, not understanding. "_Mi chiquita?_ In Spanish, it means 'My tiny.'" Tony relaxed, grinning broadly at his mistake. "My tiny what?" Ziva asked. "I am your 'tiny'?"

"Uh... si," Tony replied, loading another chip with the spicy red salsa. "_Si_, you are my tiny... um... mi... _chee-quee-tah bah-nah-nah._ Of LOVE. _De amor. _Or something like that." Wolfing down the chip, Tony said between crunchy bites, "Whatever." He winked mischievously, toasting Ziva with his giant margarita.

Again, Ziva rolled her eyes, smiling at his antics. This was the Tony she knew and, for crazy reasons even she sometimes didn't fully understand, loved. And she knew that, no matter if he occasionally tried to distance himself from her for a weekend as a way of proving to himself that he wasn't completely committed to her, there was a true bond between them now. Tony was in love with her and she with him. This was fact; they both knew it. Someday she knew Tony would be ready to make their commitment real and lifelong. It would take time. But Ziva was patient. She would wait for Tony.

"You think I don't know Español," Tony said, eyeballing a huge plate of tacos al pastor as a waiter passed by, "but ha HAH, my doubting neeeen-jah -- oh ho HO, I do."

"Do you?" Ziva teased, smirking. She sipped her tequila slowly.

"Si," Tony replied. "_Te amo_, SEE-fah." Taking her hand in his, Tony raised it to his lips, planting a hot kiss on Ziva's skin. Her dark eyes were fixed on his handsome face. "Usted es mi sol." Ziva burst out laughing.

"I am your sunshine?" She put her other hand to her mouth, giggling.

"Mi... uh... _solo_ sol," Tony answered in his best "Spanish" voice. "You make me _fay-leez_ when the... um... the..."

"Cielo," the waiter, who first served Ziva her Pescado Borrachos, whispered to Tony before setting a plate of piping hot enchiladas in front of him.

"_CIELO_... eees graaaaay," Tony continued, giving the waiter a guy-to-guy "thumbs-up" for the help. The waiter rolled his eyes and exited.

"Tony," Ziva began, carefully considering her words, "I am truly flattered that I am your... _alone sun_." She cut into her fish.

"Mmmph?" Tony, his mouth full of hot, spicy enchilada, looked up from his food. He didn't understand.

"Your alone sun," Ziva continued. "That is what 'mi solo sol' means... in Spanish." She took a bite of her supper, making a little "Mmm" sound indicating that she was pleased with her choice.

"Oh," Tony croaked, gulping down the rest of his margarita. "Better work on my language skills, huh? Guess that means we'll have to spend a weekend _solo en May-hee-co_ soon, si?" He popped another taco chip heaped with salsa into his mouth and winked at Ziva. She grinned back.

"Si," she replied, taking another smooth sip of her tequila.


	30. A Fickle Sonance

Title: A Fickle Sonance  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony says The Three Little Words. Does he mean them?  
**  
-------------------- A Fickle Sonance ---------------------**

Saying "I love you" somehow wasn't enough this night for Tony. He needed Ziva to know he meant it, that his love for her wasn't just physical or some kind of temporary fun he was having with her.

He'd started the weekend determined to stay away from her, keep his distance, force himself to take a break from being with her. They were getting too close, their relationship was becoming... well, a relationship. Something tangible. Tony wasn't used to this. He'd been pressed into faking it with Jeanne but now, with Ziva, those feelings were real. And with every minute they spent together, Tony wanted more from Ziva -- and from himself.

They lay on her sofa, relaxing after their date. The combination of spicy Mexican food and margaritas left them both drowsy. Ziva nestled her head against Tony's chest; he breathed in the soft citrus scent of her shampoo.

"Ziva, I love you," Tony said, his voice thick with alcohol and desire.

"I love you, too, Tony," Ziva replied quietly. The sound of his heartbeat, strong and steady, had nearly lulled her to sleep.

"I want you," Tony added. "Always."

"I want you, too," Ziva whispered. "For as long as you want me."

"Live with me." The words came from deep within Tony's throat, strong and clear. "Move in, Ziva."

For what seemed like an eternity, she said nothing. At last, Ziva let out a soft "Mmmm-hmmm" and Tony smiled, knowing she understood.


	31. Need You Now

Title: Need You Now  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony misses Ziva.

**-------------------- Need You Now ---------------------**

The distinct ringtone of the cellphone broke through Ziva's dreams at last and the hand that wasn't curled beneath her pillow fumbled for the small gadget on her bedside table. That she hadn't been able to immediately lay hands on it disturbed her.

_Should not have taken that long,_ she thought drowsily. _You would already be dead back home by now, Ziva._

"Hello?" Ziva mumbled sleepily into the phone. She removed her other hand from under the pillow, pushing back her long, curly hair from her face.

"Hey."

Tony's voice, soft and unusually melancholy, greeted her.

"Mmmm... Tony," Ziva sighed, then yawned. After a moment of silence she continued. "You are okay? You do not sound like yourself."

"I'm fine. How're you?"

Tony's voice was barely audible to Ziva. Now she began to wonder what was really going on. Noting the time, she knew Tony wasn't being honest; something was bothering him.

"Tony, it is almost four in the morning," Ziva said tenderly. "There are only a few reasons you have ever called me this late -- or this early." Suddenly, she sat straight up in the bed, a cold chill running down her spine. Again, she cursed herself for her lax intuition. "Someone is ill? Gibbs? McGee? Ducky?"

Tony let out a little snorting laugh.

"No, Z. Nobody's sick or anything. Everybody's okay."

Ziva was now getting even angrier at herself for being unable to read the situation as she once might have. _You have become lazy,_ she chided herself. As punishment, she promised herself that tomorrow she'd rise early and run six miles -- mostly uphill. _That will wake you, Ziva David._

"You are not okay," Ziva said, the sadness in Tony's voice really concerning her. "Talk to me, Tony."

There was an awkward silence. Tony said nothing. For a moment, Ziva wondered if her phone had cut out -- or if Tony's had.

At last, Tony's voice came quietly over the phone.

"I miss you."

Ziva's breath caught in her throat, hearing this. Only a few hours earlier that night, she and Tony had been in the office joking around and watching one of Tony's favorite old movies -- "The Black Pirate" -- as a celebration after clearing a case with their colleagues from the Coast Guard Investigative Service. They'd teased each other about their "dates" having cancelled out on them as they ate popcorn and sipped sodas. When the movie was over, Tony had walked Ziva to her car and they'd kissed. Normally, on a Friday night, she'd have invited him to spend the night with her but it had been a long day and she was exhausted. So after the kiss, they'd agreed to meet for brunch Saturday and spend the day together. She'd thought Tony was okay with the plan.

"Oh, Tony..." Ziva began, "Earlier tonight... after the movie... I did not mean to make you think that I didn't want to be with you..."

"I know," Tony said gently, "I just miss you, Ziva. I always do when you're not around." He sighed. "Wanna be with you all the time, I guess."

Ziva took a deep breath. When Tony spoke like this, it completely disarmed her. She found herself unsure of what to say or do. No other man had ever had this effect on her.

"Then we should be together," Ziva replied. "Can you come over? We could begin our Saturday together... early."

The knock at her apartment door right then should have startled Ziva. But it didn't. In fact, she'd been expecting it. And when she opened the door, she knew who would be waiting. Her dark eyes brightened, seeing her visitor. A wry smile played at her lips.

"Tony, let me call you back," Ziva said. "I have a ... guest."

"Okay," Tony answered softly. "Enjoy your company."

"I plan to," Ziva replied, snapping the cellphone shut.

Leaning against the door frame, Tony took the cellphone from his ear and did likewise, placing the phone in his jeans pocket. His green eyes solemnly searched Ziva's face as he brought his hand up to stroke her cheek.

"I didn't want to go home after the movie," Tony whispered, a serious look on his handsome face.

"I know that... now," Ziva said, moving towards him. Tony took her in his arms, pulling her to him. Ziva lay her head against his shoulder. "Stay tonight," she whispered.

"Just wanna hold you, Sweet Cheeks," Tony groaned. "That's all I need right now."

"I love you, Tony," Ziva said, rubbing Tony's chest.

"I love you, too, Ziva," Tony said, nuzzling her forehead.

Looking up at him, Ziva smiled. Jokingly, she added, "My black pirate."

Tony found a little smile for her as he kissed her forehead.

"Arrgghh, matey," he teased, closing the door behind them.


	32. By Your Side

Title: By Your Side  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: So... is Ziva moving in with Tony or not?

**-------------------- By Your Side ---------------------**

Saturday's bright morning sunlight illuminated Ziva's bedroom, causing Tony to shield his eyes against the glare. But he was glad that winter was gone and spring was in the air. He was tired of all the snowy, gray days and ready for blue skies, green grass, fresh air and the chance to be outside enjoying the weekends with Ziva.

"You still thinking about my offer?" Tony asked Ziva, who lay at his side. She stroked his chest hair with her hand. Both were, at that moment, unwilling to rise from the bed and start their day.

"Mmmm... yes," Ziva answered dreamily. And she had. Moving in with Tony was a life-changing decision and one she wasn't taking lightly.

"Okay," Tony replied, not wanting to press the issue but also eager to hear the answer.

He wanted to be with Ziva always, not only at work and on weekends. He was in love, he realized, and he wanted to make a real commitment for the first time in his life. The relationship with Jeanne wasn't the same; he'd been forced into it and the choices hadn't been his to make. But being with Ziva, letting himself fall in love with her after all these years -- he owned this. From the first time they'd kissed and then, when they'd first made love, Tony knew there wouldn't be -- couldn't be -- any other woman after Ziva. Other women, Jeanne included, had enjoyed touching his body. But they never touched his soul. Ziva had, even before she'd ever laid a hand on him.

It happened at that first meeting in the Bullpen when she'd come in looking for Jenny. Instead, she'd found Tony and his life had never been the same. From that minute, Ziva never left him. She was, of course, his partner at NCIS but Ziva was always in his thoughts, finding her way into his dreams at night, starring as the dream woman in his fantasies and, after what had seemed like an eternity, he'd finally held her in his arms for real as his soulmate while they sealed their partnership in passionate vows of love.

"We should..." Ziva yawned, raising herself from Tony's embrace, "... get up, Tony. We have many things to take care of today."

Tony's green eyes studied Ziva's firm breasts as she stretched. She tossed back her long, dark, curly hair. He, too, sat up, yawning as he flexed his arms behind his head. Now it was Ziva's turn to admire Tony's naked form. Her eyes traveled the length of his body as he flopped back onto the bed, closing his eyes and groaning.

"Like what?" Tony mumbled, scratching at the stubble on his chin. "We've got no plans, Ziva."

Ziva smacked Tony on his stomach, eliciting a sudden "AHHH!" from him as he jumped up in response. He grimaced at her; she grinned back.

"We have plans," Ziva said, raising an eyebrow. "I will need many boxes if I am to pack."

Tony frowned, rubbing his stomach where Ziva had slapped him.

"Your offer is still sitting at the table?" Ziva asked Tony. His green eyes went wide.

"On the table," he said excitedly. "My offer's still on the table. Yes!"

"Then I accept," Ziva replied, smiling. "I want to be with you, Tony."

"Ha HAH!" Tony yelped, giddy with happiness. He leapt out of the bed and ran to Ziva's small balcony, completely naked, stepping outside to yell out "SWEET CHEEKS IS MOVIN' IN!" to the neighborhood. Ziva, stunned, at first hid her face under the bedsheets. But then, realizing how thrilled Tony was, she sighed, rolling her eyes at his exuberance, and tip-toed to the balcony to embrace him.

"Now that we have announced our happy news," Ziva said to Tony, "perhaps we should celebrate inside? It is cold out here." She pressed against Tony's body for warmth in the morning chill.

Tony looked down, raising an eyebrow at Ziva's nakedness (and his own), and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah," he said, shivering. "And let's kick off the festivities with a hot shower. Or two."


	33. Fake Friends

Title: Fake Friends  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Tony D. and Tim M.  
Category: BROmance / Friendship  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None specifically but hints at sideplot similar to "Guilty Pleasure."  
Summary: Tony hurts Tim and must make amends.

**-------------------- Fake Friends ---------------------**

"Aw, c'mon, McGooGoo! Ya know I was just kidding!"

Tony flashed a teasing smile Tim's way but Tim only stared back at him, obviously hurt by what his friend had said. Without a word, Tim picked up his gear and slowly headed for the elevator. Tony watched him exit, not understanding Tim's silence.

"Probie!" Tony called out after Tim, who had now reached the elevator. It suddenly hit Tony that perhaps this time he'd gone too far. "McGee! TIM!"

But all Tony got in response was one final look from Tim — an utterly defeated look — before the metallic elevator doors silently closed.

* * *

"Boss? You, uh, headin' out now?"

Tony and Gibbs were the last two left in the Bullpen. Almost all the lights had been shut off in the large room and Tony could barely make out his mentor's face.

"Yep." Gibbs sat at his computer, finishing some work. His ice blue eyes were fixed on the screen before him. Tony cautiously rose from his own desk, making his way slowly to Gibbs'.

"McGee left early today," Tony said quietly, pretending to be interested in Gibbs' desk lamp. He traced the outline of its metal frame with his index finger.

"I know," Gibbs replied, continuing his work.

"Guess he got steamed 'cause I was joking around with him about..."

Gibbs cut Tony off, although not rudely.

"Already heard about it, DiNozzo. Don't need the recap."

Tony hung his head, feeling awful.

"Yeah, Boss," Tony agreed, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Sorry."

"Don't need to tell me that," Gibbs said mildly, shutting off his computer. He stood and looked Tony straight in the eye. "Tell Tim."

* * *

"Hey... I, uh... I didn't think you'd, uh... answer the door."

Tony tried to grin but was too nervous. He could barely bring himself to look at Tim. Instead, he kept his head down, staring at the hallway outside Tim's apartment.

"It's late, Tony," Tim said in a flat tone, his normally expressive face devoid of emotion. He looked tired. And definitely not in the mood for Tony's company.

"I know," Tony replied softly. Looking up at Tim, Tony sighed and, shrugging, said simply, "What I said today? It was wrong and I ... I didn't mean it. I'm sorry, Tim." Now Tony couldn't keep the sadness from his voice. He quickly looked back down at the floor again. "I'm just... I'm sorry. You're my best friend. You know that. Right?"

Now there was nothing else Tony could really say. Either Tim would accept his apology or he wouldn't. He certainly didn't have to. And if he didn't, Tony could understand why. If the tables were turned, Tony had thought on the drive over from NCIS headquarters, would he be man enough to accept an "I'm sorry" from Tim if McGee had said the same sort of thing to him — as a "joke"? Maybe not. At least not right away. But Tim would never have said it in the first place. Because Tim was a real friend, Tony knew. And, Tony thought miserably, he hadn't been a real friend to Tim. And Tim truly was Tony's best friend, even if Tony rarely acted as if it was the case.

"Sorry enough to quit banging on my door at ten o'clock at night, waking up everyone else in my building?" Tim's stonefaced look slowly morphed into a sly grin. "That's what a best friend would do, Tony."

Tony narrowed his eyes at McGee, cocking an eyebrow in jest.

"Definitely," Tony said in a low tone, a friendly smile playing at his lips. "And a best friend would also offer a best friend a cold brewski to let bygones be bygones, McPeacemaker."

"All I have is decaf," Tim answered, fixing Tony with a wicked smile. "I'm out of beer."

"Well played, Probie," Tony grumbled, sighing as Tim closed the door after him.


	34. Rubber Ring

Title: Rubber Ring  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None

Summary: Somebody forgets something important. Uh-oh.

* * *

Ziva tossed her long, black hair back, gazing down at Tony as he lay, grinning mischievously, beneath her. He licked his teeth in anticipation of what was to come next, as he always did when she took control in the bedroom.

"You are... ready... Tony?" Ziva said, her voice husky with desire. She could feel that he definitely was.

"Never readier," Tony gasped, knowing the moment he'd been waiting for was about to happen. "You gonna... gimme a hand there, Sweet Cheeks?" Licking his lips, Tony smiled up at Ziva. He knew that she knew exactly what he meant. Ziva smirked back down at him.

"Why," Ziva purred, "must I do ALL the hard work in this partnership?" Without taking her brown eyes off Tony, she reached for the nightstand beside the bed and, as she'd done so many times before, opened the top drawer. Her hand fumbled for a certain box. But this night, she found... nothing. Frowning, Ziva rolled off of Tony, who let out a little "oof" sound and looked confused. "Tony," Ziva asked, peering into the drawer as she continued searching for the box, "did you forget to buy any..."

Before Ziva could finish, Tony slapped his hands over his eyes and let out a huge, woeful groan.

"We're OUT?" Tony moaned. Silently, he cursed his luck. "I thought you'd get some when you went to the store," he whimpered.

"I bought them last time," Ziva answered, closing the drawer.

"Then we're out," Tony sighed, "'cause I didn't buy any." Frowning angrily, he snapped, "Made sure to get that cauliflower and the mixed greens you had on the list, though." Making a "yuck" face, Tony wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue.

Ziva rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

"You do not eat enough fresh vegetables," Ziva scolded. "Those were good for you and you needed them."

Tony turned to glare at her, scowling.

"Yeah, well, SEX is good for me, too, and I need condoms!" Tony groused. After a minute of sulking, he raised an eyebrow and reconsidered his options as he gave Ziva a second look. "Y'know, Sweet Cheeks, we could always just..."

"Absolutely not," Ziva said flatly.

"Well, I'm glad you gave Plan B a nanosecond's thought, my dove," Tony snarked. Rubbing the hair on his chest whiled thoughtfully gazing up at the ceiling, Tony finally continued: "So... what are we gonna do about... our situation here, huh? I'm, uh... I'm locked and loaded."

"I believe you will have to holster your weapon," Ziva replied, a little smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"That's... heh heh..." Tony snickered, "That's not really an option at this point, Ziva."

"You are lacking... a safety," Ziva answered, enjoying the reparteé. "I cannot allow you to take your shot, Tony."

Now Tony was past the point of kidding around. He was in real pain.

"Listen," he panted, rolling over onto his side so that he was face to face with Ziva, "I'm not joking. We gotta take care of... this. Quick."

"Then I suggest you come up with a solution," Ziva purred. "I am not the one with the... little problem."

* * *

The clerk at the all-night drugstore stared at the man leaning against the counter. He'd seen stranger things on the graveyard shift but this guy appeared to be truly suffering. Still, he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard come out of the man's mouth.

"HOW many boxes?" the clerk asked, certain this guy couldn't be serious.

"ALL of 'em!" Tony snapped breathlessly, emptying a stack of bills on the counter. "And be QUICK about it!"

"Um, alright," the clerk replied, taking five boxes of condoms from behind the cash register. "Anything else... sir?"

"NO! Can't you see I'm in a HURRY?" Tony barked, grabbing up his bag of goods. But then, noticing a package of King Kong Kakes, he raised an eyebrow and said, "OK, well, these snacks, I guess..."


	35. The Meaning Of Love

Title: The Meaning Of Love  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Ziva speaks a language Tony wants to learn.

* * *

Ziva sat at her desk, intently studying documents on a known terror suspect, when the sickeningly sweet scent of chocolate cakes wafted past her left ear.

"You have been snacking again, Tony," she said matter-of-factly. "We finished lunch only an hour ago."

"King Kong Kakes," Tony replied casually from over Ziva's shoulder, smacking his lips as he let out a happy little sigh. "They're irresistible, my ninja. Not unlike you." Leaning in closer towards her, Tony pulled Ziva's hair back from her neck, planting a hot little sugary kiss upon her skin.

"Perhaps," Ziva purred in response, smirking ever so slightly, "but I am not fattening."

"Not true," Tony disagreed. "You arouse an insatiable hunger in me, Ziva." He paused for dramatic effect. "A hunger for your LOVE." Having made his little joke, Tony snickered and, licking his teeth with his tongue, made his way back to his own desk.

Ziva rolled her eyes at this last utterance.

"Now I see why they are sometimes called 'gags,'" she shot back. Tony, preparing to take his seat, flinched.

"When did you start getting your puns right?" Tony asked, sneering at Ziva. "I smell a McRat in this. The wee probie's been poking his pointy McNose into your business and helping you figure out the who's who and what's what of the English language." Scowling in the direction of McGee's desk, Tony sniffed dismissively. "McTraitor..."

"He has NOT," Ziva countered. "I speak ten languages, Tony. It was only a matter of time before I smacked the code of your American slang." Raising an eyebrow, she flashed Tony a smug grin.

"Then I suggest a refresher course, my little Einstein," Tony teased, "because nobody 'smacks' code. They CRACK it."

"Right now, I would like to CRACK something else — your SKULL!" Ziva, now tired of Tony's nitpicking, got up from her desk and headed for the elevator without another word. Tony watched her go and, leaning back in his own desk chair, sighed heavily.

_I need another snack,_ he thought, knowing it would be a long day going forward. Ziva could get touchy about having her English corrected, especially if Tony was the critic.

* * *

When Ziva returned about a half-hour later, Tony was on his best behavior. He flashed her his most dazzling smile as she sat down at her desk. This, Ziva met with a suspicious stare.

"Alright, Tony, what is going on?" Ziva asked, narrowing her brown eyes in his direction. "Drop your beans."

Tony opened his mouth to say "spill" but stopped himself. Instead, he smiled brightly, laughed, straightened his tie and approached Ziva.

"Ten languages," Tony said, striking a thoughtful pose as he seated himself on the edge of Ziva's desk, "is impressive, Sweet Cheeks. I speak only one."

"And you are indeed a master of Gibberish, my little furry mutt," Ziva teased, a smirk crossing her face.

"Heh heh heh..." Tony mocked, forcing a fake smile. "Actually, my Ig-Pay Atin-Lay skills are un-pay-arallelled-ay, it's been aid-say. So technically, that's two anguages-lay that I eak-spay ell-way." When Ziva only stared back at him, clearly not understanding, Tony clarified, "IG-Pay ATIN-Lay? PIG Latin? Oo-yay oh-nay eak-spay the... oh, never mind!"

Exasperated with how the afternoon was going, Tony at last got to the point of what he'd been mulling over during Ziva's temporary absence.

"Okay, look," he said, now leaning right over Ziva, his hands flat on her desk. "You said you speak ten languages. Well, I wanna learn one of 'em."

"English?" Ziva prodded, getting in a little dig at Tony. He scowled back at her. "Spanish? Hebrew? Arabic? Italian?"

"That tenth one," Tony said huskily. "You know what I mean."

"Ah," Ziva purred with a sly smirk, "the language of love. That, you do not understand."

"No," Tony countered, "I understand it just fine. I'd like to get better at speaking it, that's all. You say you know it. Show and prove."

"You wish to become... fluent... in the language of love, Tony?" Ziva said seductively. Tony leaned in closer, his green eyes sparkling with desire.

"Oh, yes," he said, his voice thick with anticipation. "Teach me, Ziva. Be my Rosetta Stone."

"And you understand that to... truly grasp another language, you must... immerse yourself... in it?" Ziva asked, her brown eyes searching his handsome face.

"I'll immerse myself in ... whatever's necessary," Tony replied, licking his lips. Now he was ready to call it a day, take Ziva back to their apartment and begin his "lessons."

"Then I will tutor you," Ziva said, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "But the lessons are not free."

"I'm sure you'll make me pay, Professor," Tony teased. "Teacher's pet, that's me. Always up for some... extra credit. Afterschool sessions. Apple polishing. Banging erasers..." He fumbled with his tie again, grinning suggestively.

"You will make a fine student," Ziva answered, raising one eyebrow at Tony. "Our first session will begin tonight after dinner. We will start with some simple... conjugation."

"Yes, let's definitely conjugate," Tony said, positively giddy at the thought of what was to come. "You bring the verbs, Sweet Cheeks. I'll supply the adjectives."


	36. Alone Again Naturally

Title: Alone Again (Naturally)  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Poor, lonely Tony. Sad, sad...

* * *

"When are you coming home?" Tony asked plaintively.

His cellphone seemed tiny and it annoyed him that Ziva's voice sounded so small and far off coming through the little receiver. But everything, frankly, was bothering him this week. Ziva would only be visiting her father in Israel for another few days. Still, Tony was already miserable. He'd started missing her the minute he waved goodbye to her as she headed for the airport security checkpoint line and it had only gotten worse with each passing day.

"Sunday," Ziva answered. "You know that, Tony." Then she paused. "You DO remember that my flight returns THIS Sunday? At..."

"... 10:45 p.m.," Tony finished for her. "El Al Airlines. Flight 182. Tel Aviv to Washington D.C. Non-stop. Ziva David. First class. Trust me. I remember."

"So I see," Ziva replied, amused. "I think you know my return plans better than I do."

"Memorized 'em," Tony said. Then, sighing, he continued, "Haven't stopped thinking about you all week, Ziva."

"I have been thinking of you, too," Ziva admitted. "I wish you were here, Tony, although it is so hot you could fry your leg on the sidewalk."

Tony chuckled.

"Fry your leg, huh? Guess if it's THAT sweltering, you could cook an EGG, too." Tony teased.

"Who cooks eggs outside on the sidewalk, Tony, in the heat? That does not make ANY sense," Ziva shot back, clearly not following.

Back on his end of the line, Tony grinned and then looked forlorn again as he stared at his favorite photo of Ziva — the picture he'd taken of her looking at postcards in Paris.

"I know," Tony sighed. "I miss you so much, Sweet Cheeks. Come home soon, OK?"

"I will," Ziva said tenderly. "You know I cannot stay away from you, my little furry mutt. The farther apart we are, the more I love you."

"Yeah, I'm pretty loveable," Tony joked. "Especially from a couple thousand miles away."


	37. Love's Lookin' Good On You

Title: Love's Lookin' Good On You  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony's looking SHARP. Ziva knows why.

* * *

That morning, Tony had no problem picking out a tie. In fact, he'd jumped out of bed, showered, shaved and hustled into his favorite suit, whistling all the while. He'd walked jauntily to his favorite coffee shop, ordered his usual and flashed the clerk a dazzling smile.

Arriving at the office, Tony took his seat at his desk and greeted McGee with a grin and an uncharacteristically hearty hello. McGee stared at him, unsure of what to think. This wasn't the usual Tony who showed up at NCIS each workday. Gibbs, too, viewed Tony curiously when he stalked into the Bullpen area later. His young agent wasn't acting like himself at all. Whatever was going on with DiNozzo today, Gibbs thought to himself, he better get it under control.

At last, Ziva quietly entered the office.

As she made her way to her desk, she glanced over at Tony. He returned the look, his broad smile turning into a sly, knowing grin that Ziva met with one of her trademark smirks. Their eyes locked; neither wanted to look away.

"Nice tie," Ziva said, taking her seat. She winked in Tony's direction. He rose from his chair, sidling over to Ziva's desk so that he could lean right over her shoulder.

"Thanks for helping me pick it out..." Tony replied huskily into her ear, "... last night," he added. Quickly, so that nobody else would see, Tony gave Ziva a sudden, hot kiss on her cheek. Then he skipped back over to his desk and hurriedly pretended to look through a folder as Gibbs passed by.

With their boss safely out of sight, Tony and Ziva offered each other one last sultry look before starting on the day's work.

In a few seconds, Ziva saw that she had an email — from Tony. The subject line read "Plans tonight?" Rolling her eyes playfully, she opened it, read it and licked her teeth with her tongue. Then she tapped away at her keyboard in answer.

When Tony opened Ziva's message, which read simply "Yes, I will help you choose another... tie," he smiled, snickered, raised an eyebrow as he studied Ziva's lovely features and eagerly began planning his wardrobe for the next day.


	38. Off The Grid

Title: Off The Grid

Author: rekkidbraka

Rating: T

Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.

Category: Romance

Disclaimer: No infringement intended.

Spoilers: None

Summary: Tony and Ziva spend a day investigating in a small farm town.

**

* * *

**

The blue Dodge Charger roared down the single main street, drawing the attention of the people enjoying an outdoor lunch in front of a nondescript converted storefront on the town square. Bright sunlight glinted off the car's body; gravel kicked out from under its thick wheels. At last the car whipped into a parking space, brakes squealing as it slammed to a stop. An elderly man tottering down the sidewalk peered into the car's windshield, appearing to stare down the occupants inside.

Doors opened. Two figures emerged. The old man gave them each one more hard glare before continuing on his way.

"Nice piece of parkin' there, Sweet Cheeks," Tony said sarcastically. "Nearly took out the town's oldest citizen. Then again, you mighta been doin' him a favor if you had." The old man, hearing Tony's comment, turned back and gave him a harsh scowl, causing Tony to flinch.

"YOU said you did not want to drive today, Tony," Ziva snapped back. "YOU said you were going to enjoy the SCENERY here in the hunterlands!"

"Hinterlands," Tony corrected. "But I bet there's plenty of hunting going on around here. Maybe some of it's even for animals. And I made a critical error, thinking I'd have a day to relax with you at the wheel. Couldn't see a thing with you going 110 all the way here." Sniffing haughtily at the air, Tony frowned at the visage of the town square. "I saw no lands. No hinters, either. Whatever THEY are. Phew! Something stinks. You smell it, Ziva?" Making a 'yuck' face at the odor wafting through the air, Tony issued a few little gagging sounds before fanning the air in front of his nose.

"Are you having second thoughts about your new cologne?" Ziva smirked. Again, Tony scowled, this time at his partner.

"Ah, it's that wry sense of humor of yours that's snagged my heart for the long haul, my ninja," Tony mocked. Quickly, and trying to do so imperceptibly as he hustled down the sidewalk, Tony raised each of his arms and sniffed at the armpits of his expensive suit. Ziva glanced back, saw Tony's move, and snickered. Grimacing, Tony's face turned red with embarrassment. "All clear," Tony snarked, trying to save face.

Ziva, having already located the target of the day's assignment, strode on confidently ahead, paying Tony's explanation little mind. Tony skipped hurriedly down the sidewalk, following her. When they reached Stone's Drugs, the town's pharmacy, Ziva pulled open the door and entered, whipping off her sunglasses. Everyone in the pharmacy turned, hearing the clink of the cowbell attached to the door, and gave both Ziva and Tony a good, long look. Ziva smiled primly at them; Tony sniffed loudly and, frowning, gave the people in the store a straight stare right back.

"Maybe they're not used to seeing people not dressed in overalls. Or _people_, period," Tony whispered to Ziva, narrowing his eyes at an elderly lady with a bluish-gray beehive hairdo who'd eyeballed him up and down. She made a little "tsk" sound and went back to shopping for skin care products. Tony, feeling as if he'd won the staring contest, snickered. "That's right, Granny. Eyes on that cold cream," he muttered. Then, not seeing Ziva anywhere, Tony grimaced. Finally, he saw her at the back of the store, speaking with the pharmacist. Tony darted to join her.

"...worked here when he was a teenager. Then he signed on with the Navy. Never heard from him after that. Seemed like a good youngster. Can't imagine him gettin' into drugs but I guess you never know about these things," the pharmacist was saying. Ziva nodded politely, listening carefully to the man's speech.

"But he would have known your routine," Ziva explained. "When the store opens and closes, where you keep your supplies, perhaps how to enter the pharmacy when no one is here..."

Now Tony stepped forward, frowning at the pharmacist as he puffed out his chest.

"Tony DiNozzo, _Senior_ Field Agent," he tersely introduced himself, folding his arms. "We're gonna need to interview everyone working here. Also take a look at your customer records, financial files, whatever else we need."

The pharmacist gaped at Tony. Ziva's dark eyes were peering right through him. Tony inhaled deeply and, sensing he'd made a tactical error regarding Ziva's handling of things, grimaced.

"Anything Agent David requests," Tony said nervously, "you just produce it, OK? Thanks." With that, he gave Ziva a little smile, tugged at his tie, turned and headed off to look at the unguent selection in a nearby aisle.

Much later that afternoon, Tony studied Ziva as she silently sipped her coffee while they lunched in the town café.

"Y'know, it's a pretty cut-and-dried case we got here," Tony began. "Our AWOL sailor had a side business going, selling drugs to his shipmates, and when the local supply ran dry he hit up his old stompin' grounds back here on the farm. Broke into the pharmacy, stole what he needed and realized he was gonna be AWOL when he couldn't get back to the base in time so he's just seeing how far he can get before we nail him, selling off his stock as he goes. Not much we really have to..."

Ziva glared at Tony from across the table.

"You do not _trust_ me to handle a case," Ziva said, clearly angry. "You are so intent on having _everyone_ know that you are _senior agent_ that you cannot let me take the lead."

Tony felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. Because everything Ziva said was true. He wanted to deny her charges but couldn't. Still, he turned defensive.

"That's NOT true," Tony shot back, mainly trying to convince himself of his own words. "Ziva, you're a GREAT agent! I know that! I was just letting the guy know he should..."

"... listen to YOU," Ziva finished for him.

"...do what YOU told him!" Tony snapped. He was now furious. At himself — for having started this argument. "I was backin' you UP!"

"YOU were cutting under me!" Ziva retorted.

Tony brought his hands to his head, rubbing his temples. He had undercut Ziva and it was a habit he'd been trying to break. Nevertheless, here they were again, fighting the same old battle.

"You're right," Tony conceded, sighing. "You're right. I undercut you. I shoulda just kept my mouth shut. I've been a step behind all day since we got here. You've had everything under control and I didn't have my head in the game. Par for the course, huh?" Looking miserable, Tony played with his coffee spoon and stared down at the table. He couldn't bring himself to look at Ziva.

Ziva, tired from the long drive, walking around the town conducting interviews with less-than-helpful locals and the spat with Tony, closed her eyes for a minute. She was uncharacteristically exhausted and wanted now only to find an inn and get some sleep. Another long day of investigation awaited her — and Tony — the next day.

"I am tired," Ziva admitted. "We should find somewhere to stay tonight."

"Yeah," Tony sighed, getting up from the table. "There's a little motel down the street. You finish your coffee. I'll go check us in."

Once he had the room keys, Tony returned to the café to rejoin Ziva. But she wasn't there. He called her cellphone and she answered, telling Tony she would meet him at the motel soon. There was one more thing to handle at the pharmacy before it closed for the day.

About 15 minutes later, as Tony lay on the bed staring blankly at the ceiling of the motel room, Ziva knocked at the door and entered, carrying a paper sack. Taking a seat on the bed next to Tony, she stared down tenderly at him. Tony peered up at her, unsure of what to do or say.

"I have a surprise for you," Ziva said, handing Tony the bag. Slowly sitting up, Tony took it and opened it. A shy smile played at his lips. Ziva's dark eyes met his and she grinned.

"For me?" Tony asked, the tension between them now broken. "You shouldn't have."

"We can... enjoy them together," Ziva replied, licking her teeth with her tongue.

"Yeah, I guess so," Tony whispered huskily. "There's enough here for the whole night, you know. We may not get any sleep."

"That is a risk we will just have to take," Ziva answered.

"Guess I'll get this party started then," Tony said, taking off his shirt. Once he'd stripped down to his boxer shorts, he jumped back on the bed and peeped into the sack again. "You really should slip into something more comfortable, Sweet Cheeks, so we can open these and... share the wealth."

Ziva tossed her dark hair back over her shoulder, taking her negligeé from her suitcase. She then smiled as she made her way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her as she got ready for bed. In a few minutes, she returned, joining Tony on the bed.

"Ladies first," Tony said thickly, opening the bag so that Ziva could remove its contents. Raising an eyebrow at Tony, Ziva removed a small box and opened it.

"Shall I unwrap it for you?" Ziva asked, removing something small from the box.

"Please," Tony breathed.

"Are we sharing this one?" Ziva teased.

"We'll share them all," Tony replied. "Pleasing you pleases me, my ninja."

Now Ziva's lips met Tony's in a heated kiss. Their earlier disagreement was forgotten. They would enjoy the rest of the night together.

"Let me help you with that," Ziva whispered, unwrapping the small object in her hand. She offered it to Tony, who took it and tested it.

"Mmmm..." Tony groaned, sighing with pure ecstasy before placing the little dark chocolate candy half between Ziva's lips. "Nougat."


	39. Sneaky Feelings

Title: Sneaky Feelings  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony can't say he doesn't like E.J. Ziva can't say she does. Trouble.

**

* * *

**

Tony sipped at his coffee and stared out the window of the cafe, trying to figure out exactly when he had once again screwed things up with Ziva to the point where he was... sitting around drinking coffee and trying to figure out exactly when he had screwed things up again.

He had his suspicions, which were actually admissions of truth, but he didn't understand why he couldn't make a new friend. A new girl friend. Not a girlfriend, just a girl friend. Something in him enjoyed seeing Ziva get jealous. This wasn't how it should be and yet it was. His new friend, who'd arrived only a few weeks earlier, exasperated Ziva to no end. And Tony naturally had to play it to the hilt, tease Ziva about there being a new princess in the castle. Lately, though, Ziva wasn't responding with her usual fire when Tony prodded her; she was uncharacteristically quiet, saying nothing in her defense when Tony continued his needling.

This wasn't like Ziva. She hadn't wanted to go out to dinner Saturday night when Tony suggested they go into D.C. and try a fancy new place he'd heard about: RetroBurger. He'd been kidding, of course. He'd made reservations at a little bistro that Ziva had wanted to visit. But she'd said she was tired and they didn't go. It was a mostly silent weekend.

How had things come to this? He knew, frankly speaking, exactly what had happened. He just wasn't ready to admit it to himself yet.

And then the answer came to him — literally.

"Slacking off again? Man... If productivity was measured in empty coffee cups and candy bars, you'd be Agent of the Quarter."

He hadn't told anyone where he was going when he left the Bullpen. So how did she know he'd be here?

"You sound like the Boss."

"Vance?"

She took a seat on the tall stool beside him, not bothering to ask if he wanted company. But that was her way, he'd come to learn.

"No... The Boss. _Gibbs_."

"Oh, _him_." Downing a big swig of coffee, E.J. Barrett shrugged nonchalantly and tossed back her reddish-blonde hair. "_Vance_ is my boss. Yours, too."

"_Gibbs_ is Boss. Vance is the Director. Big difference."

"I don't report to Gibbs," E.J. sniffed, frowning at her coffee cup.

"Well, that's _you_," Tony said quietly.

"What's your problem?" E.J. asked. She shot Tony a quizzical look. When he said nothing, E.J. smirked, nodded and said, "Never mind. I get it. _SHE's_ your problem."

Tony didn't care for that remark.

"Ziva isn't a _'problem'_ — she's my _girlfriend_," Tony snapped.

"And there's the _problem_," E.J., undaunted, went on.

"What is it with you? Why don't you like her?" Tony asked. He really didn't get it. Ziva and E.J. were different types but both were excellent agents. Certainly both of them could find common ground on that fact.

"She doesn't like me," E.J. said, not appearing to care that Tony cared enough to ask. "Because she doesn't like _me_ liking _you_. And I _like_ you. And she doesn't like _you_ liking _me_."

Tony stared out the window again. E.J. let a little self-satisfied smirk play at the corner of her mouth before she finished her thought.

"And _you_ like _me_."


	40. What You Don't Know

Title: What You Don't Know  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony senses something's off about E.J.

* * *

E.J.'s words left Tony cold.

_"And you _like_ me."_

Yes. He did like her. But the way she'd said it, emphasizing the word "like"... He knew what she was implying.

"Must've hit a nerve," E.J. said, coolly studying Tony's face as she sipped her coffee. She smirked, glancing down at Tony's lap. "Or something."

Tony didn't want to face E.J. at this moment but had no choice. He wasn't sure how he'd say what had to be said. These kinds of moments never appealed to him.

"Yeah, I like you, E.J." Tony began, choosing his words carefully. "We're _friends_."

"I have enough friends already," E.J. replied, setting down her coffee cup. Her hand moved towards Tony's. "I'm in the market for something else."

Now E.J.'s fingers caressed the top of Tony's hand.

Tony wanted to pull his hand away. He didn't, though. E.J. intimidated him. And this, he found embarrassing.

Ziva had always intimidated him and so had Kate. The difference had been that he'd found their back-and-forth charming, the staredowns and mock threats a playful interlude during the day at NCIS. With Kate, there had been a sister/brother feel to the whole thing; with Ziva, an attraction had grown from the banter. He'd fallen for his partner and she'd come to love him, too.

But what had started, to Tony, as an innocent friendship with the new agent, E.J., had turned into something that now vaguely disturbed him. He'd had fun teasing Ziva about her "competition," using E.J. as his foil in his for-kicks quest to get the upper hand in his relationship with Ziva. And E.J. had turned his attention into a fantasy that she and Tony could be together.

Which wasn't what he wanted at all.

"Well," Tony stammered, clearing his throat as he gently pulled his hand away from E.J.'s touch, "turns out I'm not in the market for... something else."

There. He'd said it. Tony felt his heart pounding in his chest, sure that E.J. could hear it, too. He could hardly breathe. He needed an escape out of the coffee shop but there was none. Everything felt suddenly small around him.

"That's too bad," E.J. said, putting on a casual tone.

Tony felt chilled, though, by the look she shot him as she rose from her stool, drained her coffee cup and headed towards the exit. When she neared the door, Tony exhaled, but only slightly. They'd still be working together so the situation was by no means resolved.

"Listen," Tony said, hoping to salvage something out of the whole mess. "You're a great agent. We're gonna be working together so c'mon, huh? Friends?"

He smiled weakly at E.J., who grinned coldly back at him, her hand on the door.

"Always," E.J. replied. Then she left.

Tony shivered.

_How did she know I was here?_ he wondered, taking a sip of his coffee. _I didn't tell anyone where I was going. Not even Ziva._

The coffee was ice cold.


	41. Say Goodnight To The Lady

Title: Say Goodnight To The Lady  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: There's real trouble for Team TIVA.

* * *

He thrust the key into the lock, thinking only of what he would say.

_"Listen, Ziva, we've gotta talk. I'm tired of the silent treatment..."_

No.

_"Ziva, c'mon... You know I'm not interested in E.J. We just work together and I TOLD her that, so..."_

No. No, not that.

_"E.J. and I are colleagues, Ziva, and that's all we are. I love YOU. There's nothing about her that I'm..."_

Opening the door to his apartment, Tony was truly met with the unexpected.

That morning, he and Ziva had begun their day with another little spat.

Ziva wasn't happy that Tony had once again left the living room a mess after staying up late to watch the college basketball tournament. A pizza box containing half-eaten slices greeted Ziva that morning along with empty beer bottles peeping out from strange, random areas. Tony's clothes, which he'd shed on his way down the hall to the bedroom, draped lamps, the sofa, Tony's giant stereo and even one of Ziva's most prized plants. A tiny green tendril sagged under the comparative weight of Tony's old Ohio State basketball jersey, now too small to actually fit him but still a tchotchke necessary for television basketball viewing, apparently.

He'd said, in a louder, angrier tone than usual at breakfast, that he'd take care of it when they got home later.

And here it was, already handled.

The living room was spotless. All evidence of his one-man party the night before had vanished. Not a stick of furniture was out of place. The entire room had been freshly dusted, the stereo case's glass polished to a high shine. Ziva's little plant now looked itself again, more vibrant than usual, in fact. Tony studied it closely; it had been freshly watered.

_Guess she was madder than I thought,_ Tony mused to himself, sighing. _As usual._

"Ziva?"

Tony called out but got no answer. Then again, he wasn't necessarily expecting one. An angry Ziva meant a silent Ziva. She was probably reading in the bedroom, a habit of hers when she wasn't in a talking mood. But tonight, Tony resolved, they would talk. No matter what, they would fix this thing, this _nothing_ really, about E.J.

Carefully, in case Ziva was now sleeping, Tony opened the door to their bedroom. He made his way to the bed and found... no one.

Ziva wasn't there.

Snapping on the light next to his side of the bed, Tony needed a moment before his eyes adjusted to the light that suddenly warmed the room in a golden glow.

And then his breath deserted him.

It wasn't what Tony next saw that shocked him as much as the fact that it had somehow even happened.

In their apartment. Where Ziva should be. Where she _had_ been.

Scrawled over the bed he and Ziva shared, the word "ALWAYS," written in grotesquely formed capital letters, loomed down at Tony in a sickly brownish-red that matched, he noted to his horror, the bloodstains on the bedsheets.


	42. Because I Can

Title: Because I Can  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Tony confronts E.J.

* * *

Patterns.

He acted as if they didn't necessarily concern him when he worked a case, but he'd spent his career studying them. Sometimes they were apparent; you didn't have to look hard to find what you sought.

Sometimes you realized, later, that you'd missed them. And they'd been there all along, hiding in plain sight.

Patterns now led him to her.

Her pattern? Cleanliness. The long showers at the NCIS locker room.

The thing was, he knew, she understood patterns just as he did, too.

She used them to draw him to her.

Always as she wanted. And never as he planned.

Steam clouded the locker room, condensation covering everything. Only the sound of the shower, hissing in the distance, greeted him when he silently made his way past the changing area.

She wasn't visible through the opaque glass of the shower stall, but her presence dominated.

His heart pounded. He couldn't breathe.

This, he knew, was what she'd wanted.

Him, here. To find her, like this.

I don't want this, he told himself, any of this.

But it didn't keep him from furiously throwing open the shower door, anger consuming him, to confront her.

* * *

The nearly-scalding water streamed down E.J.'s naked form as she turned to face him. She hadn't flinched when the door had flown open and the cool air had rushed her. Now a wry grin played at her full lips as she displayed her body for Tony's gaze.

She'd fantasized about this moment since she'd laid eyes on his photo after charming another agent into giving her the file of the person who was supposed to have taken the position she'd held in Rota.

Being second choice? Didn't sit well with her. She was determined to find out just who Director Shepard had considered better than her to take command in Rota, who was the favored agent that had said "no." The whispers from her former superiors and colleagues at her old NCIS office — that she wasn't ready to lead a team, that the Rota position was Shepard's way of just filling out the job when "her" top agent had declined the post, that Barrett was a good agent in some respects but not a great agent capable of making it to the top because of her... personality — these tormented her, racing through her mind day and night. The affair with her old team leader had sealed the deal for getting her the Rota promotion. But once there, the whispers started again.

DiNozzo from the D.C. office. He was Shepard's guy. If he'd taken the team? The cases they had failed to make progress on... well... look, the guy had been Gibbs' protege.

He'd have gotten it done.

She would learn everything about this man.

And he would find out that he never should have gotten in the way of her ambitions.

* * *

They stared at one another.

Tony trembled with rage. Cold sweat broke out all over his body, despite the intense heat emanating from the shower. He could not regulate his breathing.

E.J. slowly pushed back her wet hair with both hands, never breaking eye contact with Tony. Chills shot through her, tingling her skin. Tony was seeing her nude, aroused, willing...

She so desperately wanted him to take her, right there. She'd agonized, night after night, longing to experience the sensation of how Tony would feel within her... how she would work him, dominate him, force him into submission. Whatever it took, whatever she had to do to distract him... to keep him at a disadvantage through sex... She'd destroy his career but she would enjoy his body in the process. She knew his reputation for womanizing. Why shouldn't she reap the sexual benefits from Tony DiNozzo while ruining him for what he'd done to her?

The son of a bitch...

She hated him.

But she wanted him.

She wanted that ultimate moment during a union when a man was wholly vulnerable, utterly unable to do anything more than physically gratify her, incapable of thought, of speech, of action in any other way. And she wanted this with Tony.

She wanted him helpless, at her pleasure.

Sex was such a wonderful weapon.

As usual, though, E.J. hadn't completely done her homework. She'd gotten so caught up in the idea of Tony, in her fantasies of being his lover and, at the same time, the agent of his ultimate destruction as a means of reaching her own highest ambitions that she'd overlooked something critical. The idea of using him in both ways turned her on. Screwing him over — literally and figuratively — aroused her.

This was what her superiors had always known about her — that she wrapped herself in the details of a case, but only in the areas that she chose to train her focus on. As a result, E.J. often missed the simplest details that meant the most.

It had happened again. And again, it was DiNozzo's fault for making her look like a fool.

* * *

"Where is she?"

Tony's voice was so low that E.J. could barely hear him over the shower stream.

E.J. parted her lips, but not to answer. She once again ran her hands through her long, wet, blonde hair, aware that doing so more fully exposed her breasts to Tony.

"You want me."

This, E.J. said matter-of-factly. She wasn't teasing Tony or taunting him. She sounded as if she were stating a simple fact.

"Where... IS... she?"

Tony worked to keep panic out of his tone. He also fought to keep from moving towards E.J. If he allowed himself to take one step, make just one movement forward, he wouldn't be able to control himself.

He might strangle her.

"You want me, Tony."

Again, E.J. merely stated what to her was fact. She appeared to be staring through him, not at him. Tony trembled. Fear began to overtake him.

"WHERE... IS... ZIVA?"

Now Tony screamed at E.J.

The shower stream pelted her body, rivulets of hot water running between her breasts, her flat belly, further down...

"Take me," E.J. said, closing her eyes as Tony lunged for her, the steam of the shower enveloping them both as she hungrily forced her lips against his, a deep guttural moan rising from her throat when she pressed the length of her naked form into his now-soaked body.

* * *

Tony wasn't proud of many things he'd done in his life but, as the cold night air hit his soaked clothing, he admitted to himself that what had just happened in the women's locker room might have been his worst moment.

He hated himself for what he'd done.

This wasn't the kind of man he'd thought himself to be.

And here he was. He'd become that man. On this night.

It sickened him.

But he'd had to do it.

Had to do it to find Ziva, the woman he loved.

Now he just hoped she'd understand.

* * *

Her head throbbed from where she'd hit it.

Really, she hadn't seen it coming.

Why had she been so ... so... stupid?

There was no other word for it.

_Stupid._

It would bruise. But the bruise would go away.

She studied herself in the mirror.

Usually, she was prepared. How had she not been prepared for this?

Nobody got the best of her. Nobody.

Nobody beat her at her own game.

She'd trained herself for moments like this. And she'd been bested. By someone weaker.

The sensation of feeling that she wasn't, for once, the one in control. Suddenly realizing that she didn't dictate the terms. Divulging answers to questions she'd sworn she'd never allow herself to be asked.

The pain when his hands — hands that she'd fantasized would roam her body, stroke her everywhere — suddenly pulled her hands from behind her head, the pressure he'd applied to her slim wrists when he'd yanked her from the shower's heat, practically throwing her across the locker room as if she were an insignificant object standing in his way, the surge of sexual desire she'd reveled in during their shower confrontation replaced by rising terror when the hatred and rage in his green eyes finally became apparent to her.

She'd been humiliated, now ashamed of her body while trying to nakedly crawl away from him as he lurched towards her, only repeating the same three words.

_WHERE... IS... ZIVA?_

Remaining silent hadn't been the right move, nor had rising to awkwardly attempt a panicked scramble to get to her locker, her precious black attache case, the weapons she employed when sex didn't get the job done...

But she'd only ever made J.V. and he'd been Varsity. A captain. "C" on his jacket.

He was too damn fast for her.

Actually feeling Tony slam her against a locker in the shower room was nothing like how she'd imagined it would be in her strange fantasies. It hurt. The combination knob pressed harshly into the bare skin of her back. She hyperventilated. He was strong, as she knew he'd be, but she hadn't realized just how powerful his grip was. Her wrists throbbed, aching from continual twists when she failed to answer his questions.

And her head. It, too, had slammed against the metal locker. Once... twice... a third time...

Finally, when she only cried out raggedly, did Tony slam her against the locker one final time before yanking his hands away from her, letting her fall onto the floor rudely as he stood over her, glaring down at her, naked and cringing, with a look of utter contempt on his face.

_"You disgust me."_

She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't give the bastard this satisfaction, even though he'd left her immediately after that to go find his precious Ziva.

That bitch. That BITCH...

She didn't cry. Not her style.

But, oh, he would be sorry he'd made her look bad.

Again.


	43. Over Your Shoulder

Title: Over Your Shoulder  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Exactly where IS Ziva?

* * *

The familiar first rush of near-scalding water, water so hot she could hardly stand it...

The steam heat that she allowed to envelop her, its suffocating thickness ever comforting...

The feel of the slick soap shielding her...

The scrubbing. Always, the scrubbing...

The shower as sanctuary.

Secretly, she lusted after the touch of her own fingertips against her wet skin when she was naked. She craved this strange, singular relationship with her body. Where the many men she'd known couldn't quite satisfy her, she'd always known how to give herself what she needed. No man's hands had ever truly aroused her, caressing her flesh, as much as hers had.

Until Tony had put his hands on her just now.

She'd allowed this to happen anyway, in a sense, the first time she'd fantasized about Tony back in Rota.

The night was sticky with heat. And it had been such a blistering day.

That shower had been the hottest she'd been able to bear. After reading and then obsessively re-reading Tony DiNozzo's file, she'd let the idea of him into her sanctum, the fantasy of possessing this stranger who'd bested her becoming so erotic that she felt as if it were his hands on her that night in the steam and heat and soap and unrelenting wet encased by the hard tiles. Her showers would become _their_ showers. But first she had to get to him, find a way to take control... break him. The fantasy was amazing but it wasn't enough. She needed the man, not just the idea of him. Domination... that was where the _real_ satisfaction always lay.

When she heard herself choke out Tony's name but got no reply, when she came back to herself after nearly fainting from the heat and haze and surge of twisted desire for DiNozzo, she looked down at the body she kept so clean, so perfect.

Her hands held her breasts, not Tony DiNozzo's. And she felt sickened now, filthy for bringing him into her world. He was dirty. But she wanted to get dirty with him. And then clean him as she cleansed herself. So that she could again make certain he was defiled again. He would need her to cleanse him, always, because he could never be clean enough. Just as she could never be.

That night, she'd needed another shower to try removing the stain of what she wanted from a man she'd never met. It didn't help. Nor did the next shower or the next. Not in Rota or anywhere else she'd found herself...

Now she showered again, re-living every moment that had just passed between them. Yes, it had ended violently. But he'd _seen_ her — every inch of her, wholly naked. She'd taken his mouth with hers, tasted his tongue with hers for a split-second before he'd wrenched himself away. She'd pressed herself, nude, against him. Doing so thrilled her. He'd gotten immediately soaked by the hot shower water and she'd felt his body through his sopping clothes. It had been so brief, them touching, but she'd felt his chest, his heart pounding, her body as tight against Tony's as she could fit it. He'd _say_ he hadn't reacted but how could he _not_ have when she'd thrust her hand right _onto_ him, grabbing him, her hand clutching him intimately, stroking him desperately for just as long as it took for Tony to grip her wrist — hard — and disengage his groin from her probing grasp?

He'd yanked her hand away, acting like he hated her, screaming for her to take her FILTHY hands OFF him, twisting her wrist so that she cried out in real pain.

The _bastard_...

Her hands were NEVER dirty. _NEVER_.

They'd certainly never been FILTHY.

He'd lie and say it hadn't aroused him but she _knew_ it had. She KNEW it. So what if it had been — what? — a minute? Less than a minute? He'd _wanted_ her. He had absolutely _wanted_ her, even if he didn't act like it. She wasn't just _telling_ herself that he wanted her. No, not this time. He'd just _overreacted_ to seeing her nude, gotten too aroused too suddenly. _That_ was it. That HAD to be it. _That_ was why he'd gone crazy, throwing her across the room and slamming her against the lockers. He screamed about Ziva but it was obviously to hide what he felt for HER. _Now_ she understood. She just needed to _find_ Tony and put her hands on him like she had in the shower, just _one_ more time... _This_ time, he'd react differently. He'd let it happen and _not_ fight it, not fight HER. She _knew_ he wanted her... She'd ALWAYS known how much he _really_ wanted her... He couldn't handle the _desire_, _that's_ what went wrong...

If only she'd been stronger, she could've fought him... _forced_ him to give her the chance to unzip him, to see him intimately, to take him in her hands and explore him, stroking him until she would have no choice but to clean him... And oh, she would take her time. He would be so _clean_ when she finished with him. Unless, as she hoped, he lost control and needed another cleansing. And he would. He _always_ would. She would make sure of this.

But she'd _felt_ him. She'd _touched_ Tony. _There_.

It wasn't how she'd imagined their first encounter would be. It wasn't exactly how she'd wanted it to be. It wasn't the skin-on-skin contact she'd been preparing her body for with so many showers.

It wasn't sex. But it was _so_ close.

* * *

Her hand fumbled for the towel. Why the HELL wasn't it on the hanger? She would speak with the building operations manager about the lack of maintenance in the women's locker room first thing tomorrow.

And then the towel came to her.

The shock of cold air slapped her, taking her breath, when the shower door quietly, slowly opened from outside.

A hand offered E.J. her towel.

She swallowed hard, her wide blue eyes meeting a dark chocolate gaze that betrayed nothing. A chill cut through her and she shivered.

"Dress," Ziva said in a near-whisper.


	44. Inch By Inch

Title: Inch By Inch  
Author: rekkidbraka  
Rating: T  
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.  
Category: Romance  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Ziva exacts revenge on E.J.

* * *

That she'd done what Ziva ordered infuriated her.

But it was _why_ she'd done it that enraged her.

She was _afraid_ of Ziva.

She told anyone who would listen that Gibbs didn't scare her and Ziva? Well, she certainly wasn't going to back down to some probie just because she was ex-Mossad. Big deal. Ziva was a probationary agent and she? She was a _team leader_.

She wasn't backing down from _anyone_.

But she had. Just now.

To not do so would have meant the end of her life. Somehow she knew this. She had no way of proving it and Ziva gave her no outward clue that she would, in fact, kill her. But she could kill her. Easily. And who would look for her? Not Tony. Gibbs wouldn't turn in his top agents, not to investigate _her _death. They'd all just blame it on the Port-To-Port Killer.

And how strange it would be when _that_ case coincidentally came to a sudden end, too...

* * *

"I'm NOT afraid of you," E.J. snapped, narrowing her eyes at Ziva as Ziva drove them to some unknown destination through the darkened D.C. streets. "I could _wreck_ this car... kill us _both_, you know."

Ziva laughed out loud.

"You could," she said, snickering, "but you will not."

"Wanna bet?" E.J. hissed.

She reached for the steering wheel. Ziva's right hand bolted forth, grasping E.J.'s wrist, twisting it so that E.J. was momentarily paralyzed and in too much agony to do anything other than croak out a garbled screech of intense pain.

"IF I were YOU, Special Agent Barrett," Ziva said much too calmly and quietly, "I would sit back, relax and enjoy the ride. You will need that hand later."

With that, Ziva pushed E.J.'s hand away harshly. E.J. cradled her wrist, bent double with pain.

"What do you... THINK... you're... going to DO with me?" E.J. gasped, once the ache in her wrist had subsided enough so that she could again speak.

Ziva merely grinned and kept her dark eyes on the road ahead.

"I do not THINK anything," Ziva replied in a near-whisper. "I KNOW what I have planned for you."

* * *

By now, Tony was frantic.

He had no idea where Ziva was. Nothing he'd done or said to E.J. in the locker room had any effect; all she kept saying, screaming, was that she hadn't seen Ziva at all. Ziva hadn't been at the apartment when she'd broken in earlier. She'd made sure of that. How stupid did he think she was?

_You really want an answer?_ Tony had sneered, regarding E.J. with utter disgust as she cowered on the locker room floor, a wet towel covering her.

In that moment, she'd looked up at him as if she hated him.

But when he'd turned to leave, storming towards the door, she called out to him.

_I will NEVER stop WANTING you, Tony!_

The harsh slam of the door, he'd decided, would be his only answer to that.

He didn't trust E.J. He'd seen the bloody message on the wall. Whose blood could it be but Ziva's?

Nothing E.J. said was believable. Why start listening to her now?

All he cared about was finding Ziva.

Where WAS she?

And, most importantly, was she safe?

His foot stomped the accelerator. The damn car wasn't going fast enough. But he didn't even know where he was headed.

Then he saw the red Mini racing ahead of him.

_Ziva?_

Tony's heart pounded. His breathing grew shallow.

It was Ziva's car, yes.

The question, as he tried to catch up to the little auto, was a simple one but it terrified him.

Was Ziva at the wheel?

* * *

When the Mini whipped into a familiar parking space near their apartment, Tony held his breath.

Was E.J. returning to the scene of her crime? In Ziva's car? Was Ziva inside? Hurt? If she'd hurt Ziva, he would...

And then he saw.

Ziva emerged from the driver's side. She yanked E.J. from the passenger's door.

Tony watched the scene play out, honestly surprised at the turn of events. He was thrilled that his instincts had been completely off. But he wondered... why wasn't E.J. fighting Ziva? She said nothing scared her and...

Then Tony smiled, realizing...

... this was _Ziva_.

He waited until he saw the light snap on in their apartment before he exited his car. Climbing the stairway to his apartment door, he found it strange that he felt so calm. A little grin played at the corner of his lips.

Tony let himself into the apartment.

Quietly, he made his way to where he knew they would both be.

Standing in the doorway to the bedroom, Tony folded his arms across his chest as he studied Ziva... and E.J.

"My... aren't WE a cozy little threesome?" Tony said, his green eyes sparkling as he saw that Ziva was more than okay and E.J. was... well... paying for her actions.

Ziva and E.J. both turned to face Tony, hearing the sound of his voice. Ziva's eyes quickly snapped back to E.J.

"Get started," Ziva hissed.

"You can't MAKE me do this," E.J. shot back.

"Tony!" Ziva called, not bothering to take her eyes off E.J. "Can we _make_her do this?"

"Not only can we MAKE her do this, Ziva," Tony answered, a devilish grin brightening his face, "but we can enjoy WATCHING her do this."

E.J. shivered.

Maybe they were _both_ crazy.

And maybe she'd pushed too far, too soon this time.


End file.
